This sucks.

So, it looks like this month was a bust.

My temp dropped significantly this morning. Never a good sign. Took a test. It was negative. An unequivocally, very specifically bad sign.

I can't really describe what I am feeling right now. It's more than disappointment. It's more than sadness.

It's frustration. Frustration at the fact that Stacey and I cannot create a family by ourselves. We need to purchase a complete stranger's ingredients in order to make a child. And after three attempts and a total of 9 vials, that is $1800 spent thus far on just the swimmers alone. Add in all the extras: clomid, estradiol, prometrium, opk's, preg tests, vitamins, raspberry tea, iron extract, primrose oil, etc, etc, etc, we are probably creeping closer to $2500. Frustration at the fact we are once again living our life in a series of two-week increments. I start my period, and we wait to weeks to ovulate. Once that happens, we wait two weeks to find out whether we are going to have a baby, or if we have to start the whole process all over again. And it's not like we can think of anything else during those 2-weeks. We are constantly looking for symptoms, signs, any sort of clue that I may be pregnant. Every pinch, twinge or ache suddenly becomes a sure sign that This is it! It is two full weeks of being myopic, obsessed baby-fiends.

It's envy. Envy for anyone and everyone who is lucky enough to create a child with their partner just by having a little roll in the sack. Envy for friends and family members who are either on their second or third pregnancy now, or who are done having kids. They had all they wanted, and now their families are complete. And this morning, I have a suffocating hatred for anyone who has recently posted a picture of their latest bundle of joy on Facebook or MySpace or one of the countless baby sites I have been lurking on lately. Yes, I know you are proud of your beautiful baby, and you have every right to be. But I REALLY don't want to see how happy you are right now.

It's humiliation. Humiliation for thinking so foolishly that it just might have worked this time. Thinking I was actually pregnant. Yesterday I ate a protein bar that tasted pretty funky. It was supposed to taste like chocolate, but it tasted more like the seaweed wrap on a sushi roll. I shrugged it off, thinking, "Wow...this pregnancy has really thrown my taste buds off! How funny!" Turns out, the protein bar really was funky, and I spent all morning with an upset stomach, burping up nasty seaweed stink. It would be pretty funny if I didn't feel like such a fool for actually thinking I might be pregnant.

And it's fear. Definitely fear, more than anything else. I feel like time is running out for me. I know I'm only 34, but in 2 weeks from now I will be 35. There is a good chance I may still be trying to conceive a year from now. And that means being a first time mom at 37. Maybe 38. Hell, I feel old now. My joints and muscles ache all the time. I creak, crack and moan any time I bend over to pick something up. I fall asleep at 9pm. My eyes are starting to go. Not to mention whatever kind of deterioration is going on in my reproductive organs. Who knows how often I ovulate, and even then, how many of my eggs are still viable. And without a steady supply of swimmers on tap, it's not only a matter of timing, but luck. Lots of luck. And that's definitely been running a little low lately.

I know I'm feeling sorry for myself. I admit it. I also know that this will pass, and in two weeks we will be so excited to start all over again. We will get hopeful and optimistic, and we will post on the baby sites, and peruse the infant wear department at Target and start feeling every twinge and pinch and think, This is it!! That's the way this cycle works. And that is why it sucks.