I went to the doctor this morning. The sun was shining and the leafs were yellow and red. When I was climbing the stairs of the hospital I thought how incredibly lucky I am that I am coming to the hospital for this. Fertility treatments. We are looking for a way to help our bodies create a child. I’m not fighting cancer. I don’t have to fear for my life like so many others who climb those stairs. I felt happy and hopeful.
I watched this Danish documentary yesterday. It was about human mind’s incredible ability to trick the body to get well. I’ve read a lot about the fact that placebo can be as good as real medication and that it seems that sometimes it’s just important to be part of the rite of being medicated. It makes sense, if you think about all the shaman healing abilities. Western medicine can’t explain or even address this fact.
So, I’ve decided to believe I’ll get pregnant. We have all the help we can get. I will get pregnant.
I told the doctor about crying all day every day during the hormones, and she and the midwife were really understanding, we even joked about it a bit. They also both applauded spontaneously, when I told Wonderboy had quit smoking. They made me feel so happy. They really want us to get pregnant.
The doctor promised that we’d try this for three months still, because it seemed to be working so well on me. She said that we’d probably try some more ovulation inducing medication after that, if I don’t get pregnant before New Year. She said it’s better to try for an “Organic” child before going to the real hardcore medical choice. To my surprise I agreed. I want to make it happen with my own body.
We’ve both been tweaking our diets and I’ve given up all dairy products to try out, if I’m allergic to them. I’ve felt a lot better, healthier and somehow more calm and light too after that. I already know I’m lactose intolerant, but since I seem to have the same problems with low lactose dairy products I’m trying this out to make my body more healthy. I’ve thought that eating the right things can have as big an effect as medication. Nobody knows, how that works.
They asked me, if I’d felt something different and I admitted that my right ovary had been prickly. They went in an ultrasounded me through. Turns out I can feel it. There was a huge (heh) follicle just ready to jump off the ovary.
Doctor’s orders were to have sex this weekend like little bunny rabbities. I tried not to make a too hilariously excited face. I already made Wonderboy make love to me yesterday with the same excuse. Of course when he fucked me, he did it saying that he’d just use me for coming. And he did and it was wonderful.
Three days more of that. Yay!