My RE is driving me crazy!!

I picked my RE for what I consider to be a few very good reasons:

1. She's a woman.
2. She didn't poo-poo my desire to use my own eggs. She let me choose, and embraced that choice.
3. She immediately saw what could be done differently (i.e. better) than what my last RE did.
4. She's super knowledgeable

I'm still totally onboard with my decision—really I am. It's just that last reason that's got me a little frazzled. My RE could dazzle you with the amount of fertility knowledge she can rattle off in the matter of a few seconds of conversation. And she often does. But I've moved on from 'dazzled' and am now at 'fed-up'. Because that's just the problem—she won't shut the eff up!

Another reason I chose her which didn't make the above list, is because she recently broke away from a group of other doctors to start her own practice; meaning—she's hungry for new patients. Considering my last RE's office was more like Grand Central Station and I was lucky to get a decent nurse on the phone—let alone the doc himself—I saw her uber-availability and super-attentiveness as a huge plus. But now that positive has turned into a negative, and I feel like I'm drowning in her rhetoric and "medicalese"—a language I have yet to decipher.

Like yesterday, for example. I've taken to returning her calls during walks down the busy street my office is on. (My boss and cube-mates really do not need to know about my IVF). It's hard enough to hear her over the police car sirens and chattering tourists that are a constant in downtown San Francisco. But after listening to her rattle off my drug options auctioneer-style ("Can-I-get-a-down-regulated-cycle? Antagonist-protocol-going-once,-going-twice"), my ovaries are spinning. What the hell does it all mean, lady? And can I please get a frickin' word in edgewise??

It comes down to this—I need to be heard and understood by my doc because at the end of the day, this is my body and my decision. If she'd stop jabbering long enough to let me ask my questions, maybe—and this is a big maybe—I could get some answers. Preferably in English.

2 Things

My body does this weird thing sometimes where it conspires with the universe to keep me even more miserable than I thought I could be.

Or, why do I always start my period on the same day I find out another friend is pregnant?

Maybe I'm lucky... because instead of stretching my misery out over several days, I get to experience it all in one big, huge pile of a poopy day.

"Let it go," I say to myself. "Be happy for ______. Just because she's pregnant does not mean you never will be." But my raging hormones, hammering headache, and desperate moodiness don't understand this warm and fuzzy psycho-speak. Would it sound better and make more sense with a glass of red wine in one hand? I'm hoping to find out tonight.

But until then, I'm gently reminded to Let Go and Acquiesce by these 2 lovely bloggers. Now if I could just put that into play. God, help me... (And I mean that. God, are you listening??)

Right now I'm reading the book Eat, Pray, Love. (I know, I'm about 3 years behind the times. I just kept putting off reading it because I didn't think the subject matter was relevant to me. Man, was I wrong.) Anyhow, In the "pray" section, she deals a lot with accepting herself. I yearn to be able to do that now. If there was a magic potion I could take that would make me never want to be a mother again and just forget all this IF bullshit, I would chug it down faster than a thirsty alcoholic at Octoberfest. My problems would be solved and I'd be at peace... right?

I think self-acceptance is an ongoing practice. Our busy minds are always coming up with new obsessions and worries to wear us down. If it wasn't a baby I yearned for, then it would probably be a BMW or a new career or a decent singing voice. It's always something. The trick lies in not giving your mind the authority. Letting go instead to the source of life. So much easier said than done.

Well, for now I'm just gonna have that glass of wine and hope for the best.