Back to Day One...again

Thank you to my friends and readers who pointed out that it was probably the Lupr.on that was making me all brooding and full of doubt. You would think that after so many years I would be aware of this, but no, every cycle the crappy mood takes me by surprise. The black mood has lifted, as it always does, leaving me feeling more hopeful about it all. In short, I'm a ninny.

Today is cycle day one. That means that Pablo* is here and tomorrow I get my happy box o'meds. Yeah! I love tearing into the big medicine chest. Gimme gimme. The clinic should be calling sometime this afternoon to schedule my day 3 baseline ultrasound appointment. As usual, it all seems to be happening so fast. If all goes well, in two weeks or so I'll be having an egg retrieval...and then an embryo transfer. I promise I will be trying to stay hopeful and positive and try not to drift into the swamp of despair. No promises, though.

Last night I had the most vivid dream. I was holding a newborn cradled in my forearm, with his head in my palm and his little feet touching my stomach. We were in the kitchen and my husband was working at the counter and it was pitch dark outside. It seemed so real that when I woke up I could still feel the weight of the baby's head in my hand. I can remember his features and still see the fuzzy white footie sleeper. I have had dreams like this before, and I wish that I could say for certain that it means something, because sometimes they do, and sometimes they don't. In any case, vivid dreams like these give me the warm, hopeful fuzzies.

*my period is not a maiden aunt Flo, but a jealous pool boy who shuts the pool down for a week before going on his merry way.