God. On the subway this morning I was standing in front of a poster for the Boston Police Department. Pictured was an officer and his dog--part of the K-9 unit. This naturally led me to ponder the nature of police dogs, and then, not so naturally, about those that have fallen in the line of duty. And then I started to cry. For real. I'm insane.
But it's not just the idea of dead dogs that are setting me off. I need to stay off the message boards, too. Every time I read about someone else's success I tear up. In happiness? No. Because I'm feeling sorry for myself and wondering why it can't be me. I know it's the progesterone, but the crushing despair I'm feeling today is overwhelming. There's no way it worked. Despite the bounty of eggs retrieved at ER, I do think this was my worst cycle yet. One embryo? Out of nine eggs? It's shameful.
I'm seriously considering going to straight to the Famous Clinic in NYC for the next cycle. This shit is wearing me down.