Black and blue

Tomorrow night will be two weeks since I started this round of shots -- three sticks a night, including the new medicine which stings like a mother fucker. And the needle, even though it's only subcutaneous, is longer than the others. And I usually end up bleeding a little with that stick. And what that means is this...



Yes, that's my lower belly (and yes that's my Mickey Mouse tattoo -- notice that he's wearing a Yankees hat), bruises along with prick marks. Lovely, isn't it? They tell me it will all be worth it. I'll let you know when it is.

This week the follicle are continuing to grow, but they're taking their own sweet time. I thought for sure today (and thought the same thing on Monday) that this would be it, it would be time to start preparing for the retrieval. This morning, I had two that were 20mm (that's the magic number) but they want to give the others more time to grow since they are only in the 12 to 14mm range. So two more nights of injections, and more blood work (my arm is bruised, as well) and another ultrasound on Friday.

Maybe retrieval on Monday or Tuesday?

~~~~~~~~

My niece's baby shower was last Saturday. I didn't go. I sent a gift and no apologies. My mother asked what she should tell people if they asked why I wasn't there.

"Tell them the truth if they ask, tell them it's too hard."

So Sunday, when my parents came down to visit for Easter dinner, I asked how the shower was, if she got nice gifts, and if anyone asked why I wasn't there. And the reply shouldn't have surprised me. It was typical Fran.

"No, but I made sure they knew why you weren't there."

"What do you mean?" Even though, I knew. I've seen my mother in momma bear mode many times.

"I pulled Erica (the pregnant niece) and Angie (her sister) aside and said, 'you know why your aunt isn't here, don't you?' And they said no, so I told them that it was too hard with you losing the baby."

"And what did they say?"

"Nothing. So I said, 'you do know she had a miscarriage, don't you?' And they said they did."

Now I was pissed. "Did they even fucking ask how I was?"

My mother paused. She didn't need to answer, I knew not only from her expression, but also because she didn't say anything about me saying "fuck" in front of her. But she went down this road, so I made her. "Well?"

"No, they didn't."

I'm so glad I didn't waste my time to drive to Syracuse for the shower. It would have just annoyed me.

I still don't know why I let my family get to me. Why I expect them to behave any differently, why I expect them to be able to see beyond themselves.

Someone told me a long time ago that I shouldn't have the same expectations for other people that I have for myself, that it will only set me up for disappointment. And for the most part, I try not to do that, try not to set my expectations too high, but with my own fucking family? I don't think that's expecting too much. And I won't lower my expectations for them.