Two years ago today my sister found out she was miscarrying. She was pregnant with triplets. My heart still breaks for her.
In the thick of my sorrows, when I've built up a good momentum for feeling sorry for myself, it can be hard to remember that I have so much to be thankful for. I have not gotten pregnant, that's true - I'm not even ovulating. But I have to admit, this status of things is much preferred to getting pregnant and losing the baby. That's a situation I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.
And I should be grateful that I have someone close to me who is going through the same struggles. My sister and I both have PCOS. I don't acknowledge it as often as I should, but my sister is a great comfort to me. We vent at each other and cry with each other and cheer about the silly little triumphs with each other. It would be ten times as hard on me if we were not in this infertility hell together (hey, misery loves company, right?).
I'm going to try to be mindful of these things over the next few months. I'm waiting for Dr. P's office to call with my CD21 progesterone levels (miserable as they will be) and then I'm taking a TTC break. After four medicated cycles with only one ovulation, I'm at the end of the road with Dr. P. She'll have to refer me out for anything else and I don't have insurance coverage for an infertility specialist. I hate waiting. I hate wasting time when I know my body will only get worse, but I don't have much of a choice. God will teach me patience even if it kills me, I guess.