…which is rather a new feeling for me.  Don’t know if it’s a result of the peace that comes with formalizing my long-term relationship; or if it’s from the general feeling of well-being that all these artificial hormones floating around in my body is inducing; or if it’s simply the joy of having a good dog around the house – (the city is much more livable with a dog, oddly enough, or maybe I’m just better able to cope with the stress).  Or maybe it’s all three.  Or perhaps just the relative comfort of having a body that’s not in utter rebellion for a change.

Because I’m also feeling optimistic about this upcoming cycle.  I’m certainly feeling more relaxed since I made the decision that this will be my last IVF using my own eggs.  If it doesn’t work this time, I’m ready to move on to donor eggs, whereupon my chances of carrying a successful pregnancy to term go up to something like 70% at my clinic.  And the age-factor isn’t nearly as important.  So some of the pressure is off me & my recalcitrant ovaries to “perform”.    

One of my younger co-workers – a fellow I’m friendly with but not close to – told me yesterday in conversation that I was looking great these days.  Which was nice to hear, not because I’m particularly vain, but because I interpreted it to mean that I’m looking more like myself again.  Between the time that my imminent miscarriage was diagnosed in early July and right up until the end of August, I felt (and looked) like death – the combination of anemia and the bone-crushing depression that I had such a hard time crawling out from under did a number on me: for those two months there was no color in my normally rosy face, and I had no energy to spare for smiling or doing much of anything besides staring dully and making black-as-death, inappropriately snarky comments.  So yesterday, it made me feel good to know that I’m back to normal as far as the general public knows.  

July feels like it was so long ago – much further in the past than the few weeks of giddy happiness that I was able to experience in May & June.  And I want that again.  And it feels more possible now that the rest of my life is evening out and nothing feels quite so dire anymore.

I go in to my clinic tomorrow for an HSN to make sure that everything’s healing and back to normal on my insides, and assuming that it is (there’s that optimism again!) I’ll probably get my prescriptions filed & we’ll come up with a start date for the patches, as well.  

And I’m looking forward to moving toward this goal again.  Looking forward to cutting off my coffee and alcohol habit, even, since I’ll have such a good reason for doing so.  Looking forward to my second chance.  

Here’s to second (and third and fourth and fifth) chances.