Standing on the Edge

Tomorrow morning I go for my pre-stim scan at my old RE's office (he works in collaboration with the clinic in Montréal). While I'm there, I'll stop at the pharmacy and pick up the Gonal-F and the Luveris because ladies and gentlemen, (oh who am I kidding, 90% of you are ladies, right?), if the scan goes well, by tomorrow night I'll be doing THREE injections instead of just one.

And you just know how I'm gonna love that, right? Given my fear/phobia of needles?

...

NOT.

I'm starting to feel that this cycle is real. I'm starting to feel like we MIGHT have a shot at this. That's dangerous. I'm starting to feel that old b*tch creep back in, you know the one; starts with an "H" and ends with "OPE". And dear heavens, that scares me. I am so afraid to let myself feel any hope at all that merely the thought of having any simply terrifies me.

I'm not afraid of failing; I expect failure at this point. Would you believe a part of me is afraid of succeeding? Because then I won't know what to do next. The IF road I know; I have travelled it for over five years now. I know this road inside out, backwards and forwards, upside down and right side up. I know it intimately. But the possibility of having hope, no matter how faint, frightens me right now. I'm trying to push it away, push it aside, get it out of my mind and out of my system and just focus on getting through one day at a time without having any thought of what the future might bring.

I read along with the women (and men) at Cycle Sista and I see where they are in the current cycle and I keep hope for them and wince at their setbacks, as well as cheer their successes. I go back to previous months and see how many were successes and how many didn't work out. I know that a part of me is curious as to which side I'll fall on when this cycle is all over.

And even the notion that I am entertaining the possibility that a positive end to this might exist is completely absurd! Because we all know, dear bloggers, that I fall on the crappy end of the statistics every time. I am the side of the coin that lands down. I am the buttered bread that lands face-down on the kitchen floor; never face up. So I am valiantly trying to keep that b*tch "Hope" out of my world.

Out, out damned spot!

Suffice it to say, for today, I stand on the verge of starting tomorrow with stims, and stimming with 225 units of Gonal-F and 75 units of Luveris for the next 9 days (at least).

AND. I. AM. SCARED. SH*TLESS.