I tested for pregnancy the day of my birthday party. No the IUI was unsuccessful. I was surprised, I took it in stride. But the following day, I started BAWLING. This time I was mad at God because He’s never really failed me when I’ve prayed. Yet here I am, two novenas and countless hours of praying later, and still barren! My poor mom who goes to church every day to pray for us. And all my friends and relatives who’ve done the same. This is how He responds. Yes I was angry. Ahhh, faith, I am really being tested.
It helps to be busy. I was grateful to Burning Man for keeping my mind pre-occupied as I struggle with scheduling what seems like a limitless number of volunteers into a limited number of shifts. It’s one big puzzle, pouring through numerous emails and slotting people into their preferences while taking into account experience, personality type, and flake factor. I also decided it’s time for a vacation. I’ve been planning a trip to Yosemite which makes me very happy. I haven’t been in such a long time. Then maybe also Greece before the end of summer.
What’s next in the process? More drugs, more inseminations. Only when you’re in my position, do you realize the glaring disparity in fairness when trying to conceive. The infertility issues are shared between the two of us yet I am the one who has to be the human lab experiment. Dean says he’ll do whatever it takes. And I’m fuming, “Well you’re not the one who has to get injections in your ass!”