The Clock Stops Here - And So Does the Buck

On our way home from work, hubby tells me his doctors fee will be $10,000 for MESA. That doesn’t include the anesthesia or hospital fee, or any other incidentals. I walk through the door to our house, my beautiful watch that hubby bought me for my birthday two years ago breaks and falls from my arm as I’m unloading the groceries.

Dh meant to replace the watch for my birthday, but never got around to it. It hits me that I can’t even afford to spend the $100 to replace the watch because we’re saving every damn dime for this ridiculous roulette that is IVF/ICSI. So, no birthday present or Christmas celebration, just the surgery, and the painful realization that I’m a year older, still have no child(ren), and awaiting my next period.

I throw the stupid broken watch against the wall, slam my bedroom door out of sheer frustration and disappointment, and weep for hours until there’s nothing left. It’s not the watch, or disappointment around the holidays, or PMS, or hubby.

I'm so angry all the time now. Each setback, health, financial, or emotional, hits me harder than the previous. I have no reserve. I’m hovering between despair and disappointment. My dream of a family is slipping away. We take a few steps forward only to slip farther back. And I feel he just doesn’t get the urgency. I’m constantly “on” him to make a doctor’s appointment, find out information, request medical records, get the questions together, etc.

There’s just no proactiveness in him and it drives me crazy. He’s totally laid back and I’m all type A control freak. Usually, that works for us. He mellows me out. But clearly not when it comes to IF. I’ve sat back for a decade thinking he’ll step up to help me figure all of this out, because he’s the one who had the failed VR. But I’ve finally realized it’s going to be up to me.

So step away slowly. I’m driving this trainwreck now.