I Went to the Doctor

(sing it, now!)
Actually she was a CNP. We talked for half an hour and came up with a Plan. Then I went home and freaked out, because no matter what I PLAN, my body is going to do what my body is going to do, and if I ovulate on a Wednesday I’m screwed (actually I’m not, if you get my drift, because on Wednesdays, Terry is in Virginia and I’m in New York). This got me thinking, am I simply out of my freaking mind?!?!?!?!? What do I think I’m trying to do here, honestly?!?!?!?! And another month goes by… and another… and another… and pretty soon it’s going to add up to another dang YEAR.

Then I went to class, and talked with my (soon to be) advisor about classes, and talked with Terry about logistics and calendars and planning, and felt a lot better.

I LOVE my classes. So much so that I’m idiotically taking 5 right now. I plan to drop one (soon! soon!) and take another down to pass/fail, but meanwhile, I’m going whole hog.

That’s why it’s 2:26 a.m. (whatever that silly time stamp says) and I’m on my way to bed. I think I can cram in about 6 hours til I have to get up for class… this is why I stopped charting my temperature; my sleep habits are just too weird.

Tomorrow

Actually, I guess that’s today… technically…I get to meet my new gyn service provider. This upcoming date has had me lurking throughout the blogosphere, obsessively reading other people’s stories, as did a recent trip to Guatemala where I swear two out of every three women I saw were either pregnant, nursing, or hauling a small child around. Then as we were standing in line at the airport on our way out, the woman in line behind us was chatting with a fellow traveller about her adoption of a little girl (nearly completed process).

Lots of food for thought, for anxiety, for avoidance.