Monday, November 21, 2011
not a great weekend.
call from dr while I was at my parents' place. emby formed but was no good. three nuclei or dna strands or something. she said "they only put one sperm in" which makes me wonder if they put two in.
so I was devastated. Dh had forgotten to put a bag in the car that I'd asked him to five minutes before we left. I had to ask him or walk back and forth with heavy bags, the post-opu discomfort was pretty bad.
of course he hadn't. and it had my bathers in it. and all I wanted, so much, was to get in the water as soon as we got away from my family. and it was 1 1/2 hours drive to home, hungry and in distress. and he made it all about me "putting a guilt trip on him". and didn't even ask, once, what the dr had said though he knew she'd called (he claimed I'd said I'd tell him later, but I didn't. he misheard the doctor's name, but anyway, he could have showed an interest once we got away from family.
so I basically wept and raged all the way home, particularly once the kid was asleep in the back. dh refused to discuss my anger - basically said we had to talk about it later, and I so needed help and sympathy then, in that car, that minute.
and between that, Hong kong and the lack of care and interest during the emby transfers last year, I've realised I cannot, and shouldn't have, relied on him to take care of me when I'm sick, under pressure or distressed. he makes me ask for help, which I resent, and then he interprets my less than gracious requests as a criticism, and of course his pride is more important than maybe just helping me.
he could have treated this whole thing as a chance to prove he wasn't the person he was in hong kong, that I could trust him with my life and my needs.
but I can't. not now, not ever. I'm in this alone, for life.
and I wonder if we will get even one emby worth transferring, let alone one that will implant. and the process is getting more physically painful, time-consuming and hopeless as it goes on. but what else is there for me to do. give up hope altogether? give up my daughter, the one I still dream of, or Alexander's little brother?
going to stop now before I cry again. got work to do. work is a saviour sometimes.
call from dr while I was at my parents' place. emby formed but was no good. three nuclei or dna strands or something. she said "they only put one sperm in" which makes me wonder if they put two in.
so I was devastated. Dh had forgotten to put a bag in the car that I'd asked him to five minutes before we left. I had to ask him or walk back and forth with heavy bags, the post-opu discomfort was pretty bad.
of course he hadn't. and it had my bathers in it. and all I wanted, so much, was to get in the water as soon as we got away from my family. and it was 1 1/2 hours drive to home, hungry and in distress. and he made it all about me "putting a guilt trip on him". and didn't even ask, once, what the dr had said though he knew she'd called (he claimed I'd said I'd tell him later, but I didn't. he misheard the doctor's name, but anyway, he could have showed an interest once we got away from family.
so I basically wept and raged all the way home, particularly once the kid was asleep in the back. dh refused to discuss my anger - basically said we had to talk about it later, and I so needed help and sympathy then, in that car, that minute.
and between that, Hong kong and the lack of care and interest during the emby transfers last year, I've realised I cannot, and shouldn't have, relied on him to take care of me when I'm sick, under pressure or distressed. he makes me ask for help, which I resent, and then he interprets my less than gracious requests as a criticism, and of course his pride is more important than maybe just helping me.
he could have treated this whole thing as a chance to prove he wasn't the person he was in hong kong, that I could trust him with my life and my needs.
but I can't. not now, not ever. I'm in this alone, for life.
and I wonder if we will get even one emby worth transferring, let alone one that will implant. and the process is getting more physically painful, time-consuming and hopeless as it goes on. but what else is there for me to do. give up hope altogether? give up my daughter, the one I still dream of, or Alexander's little brother?
going to stop now before I cry again. got work to do. work is a saviour sometimes.
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