A Little Sad

I'm spotting. My temperature, though already low, took the deadly downward plunge this morning. My period is imminent. And I'm a little sad about that. You'd think by this point, I'd be over seeing red. I mean, really, did I expect anything different? No, no I didn't. But I guess, no matter what, whether I'm in the midst of treatment or not, it hurts a little each time evidence arrives that I am once again not pregnant.

Like a lot of women, the impending flood also signals the cocktail of female hormones to plummet leaving me irritable and well, sad. So I guess a little sadness today is no surprise. I could simply write the sadness off as a "that time of the month" issue and go on. But really, I'm sad for lots of reasons. My period is just one of them.

Sam and I went on a little date night this past weekend. It was glorious to get out of my mom's house and spend some one-on-one time together! And as we had a gift card, it was a beautifully cheap date night! But what did we talk about? Sam's job opportunities, my lack of job opportunities, and IVF! Hot topics, huh? You can imagine the romance between us, right? We discussed how our original game plan of IVF by the end of this year is looking less and less likely. It simply doesn't seem like we will have $15,000+ by the end of the year. That makes me sad. Really, really sad. A little mad, but mostly sad.

Infertility as a whole makes me sad. It makes me sad that I worry when a friend says they have good news. It makes me sad that friends feel like they have to preempt good news with, "don't worry, we're not pregnant." It makes me sad that a basic human function that more than 90% of women achieve with ease is my greatest failure in life. It makes me sad that we aren't planning to buy a house or take an awesome vacation now that grad school is coming to a close, but rather how we will pay for a radically expensive medical procedure. It makes me sad that I can't give my mom a grandchild. It makes me sad that I can't make my husband a dad. It makes me sad that infertility is literally affecting all aspects of my life. Even aspects like job selection.

Sam and I were discussing our future in terms of health insurance today. What will we do if his job doesn't cover me? Or if it is too expensive for me to be under his policy? One option of course is simply a cheap major medical plan. I've had one of those before. It's not glamorous, but it covers me incase of a legitimate emergency. But there is, of course, no maternity coverage. Sam is ADAMANT that maternity coverage is critical. I laughed. I told him, I, of all people, can feel pretty darn safe without maternity coverage. If we aren't actively in an IVF cycle, I don't see a real need. Sam on the other hand said this, "As soon as you drop maternity coverage, you'll end up pregnant." Is that a promise? Can we cancel my insurance today? But in all seriousness, it sucks that infertility has to even factor into his career. It makes me sad that basic things like where to live are dictated by proximity to good IVF clinics. It makes me sad that insurance packages play such a big part in the decision process. It makes me sad that money has suddenly become infinitely more important to me. The difference in job A and job B is $2000, big deal right? No, that's a HUGE deal all of a sudden. And I hate that.

Tonight, with the arrival of my period due at any time, knowing that I am most certainly still not pregnant, I'm a little sad. Infertility, you suck.