Yesterday was really difficult. It started with not getting restful sleep on Saturday night and seemed to snowball. I had plans to go to a brunch book club with Elena, and I wanted to look cute for the loose Derby Day theme we had planned for the brunch. I got up and weighed myself only to find that I am currently tied for my highest weight ever. I'm under instruction from my RE to "eat eat eat," and I know that numbers on a scale don't tell a full story of health, but that put me in a bad headspace. Then after I got out of the shower, I found myself staring at my bruised, enlarged stomach. Generally, I would guess that I feel more confident about my body and myself than the average person. Yesterday, though, I felt defeated by it all.
Compared to some stories I have read, I have had a pretty easy time with stims and procedures. The results of the last cycle were a big blow (as I discussed in detail previously), but we know that I respond to medications, I can make eggs, and Richard and I can make embryos. I'm gaining weight and I miss running hard and/or for long distances, but it could be so much worse. As my RE said, every cycle is different, so we just have to hit the right one.
In the middle of my breakdown, my RE came to say hello, so that was a delight. He did give me some encouragement by mentioning that the embryologist said the eggs I made last time were great, and he still had hope for us. That made me feel a lot better. After consulting with Richard, I agreed to have a little bit of medicine to calm down, so they brought me a little bit of Versed to go through my IV and take the edge off. It seemed to help, and I didn't even cry when I had to tell the nurse how much I weigh. We took this photo that I proceeded to put on social media without realizing how much I look out of it. At least my mask was covering most of my face. I blame the Versed and the lack of sleep, but now this photo will probably end up framed in our house someday.
Time I woke up: 7:00-ish