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Exhaustion

For the third day in a row, I woke up at 3:40 am.  Not on purpose.  I haven’t slept well for months.  So getting to the gym by 6 am was no problem; I was waiting with the other members of the zombie exercise cult when the doors opened.  My muscles were stiff from yesterday’s BodyCombat*  class, but I got through the BodyPump** class.

Next challenge of the day: an appointment with Bill, our FS.  So I had to rush through my shower, try to get make-up to stick to my still sweating face, and meet my husband outside the Hobart Aquatic Centre.  I ate my muesli on the way.  Our appointment was for 8:15, but we were there by 8.  And were able to get in early.  While I was undressing (by this point, it felt like I was doing nothing but dressing and undressing today!), my husband was quizzing Bill about what he’d be looking for and what the options would be.  Which I think was sweet as it showed he was anxious and wanted to know what’s going on, but annoyed me as I couldn’t really follow what was being said.  He looked at my ovaries, and thought it looked like I’d recovered from the OPU and had just ovulated.  So we’re all go for another flare cycle.  Which should be sometime in the next couple weeks (due in 10 days, but could be a bit longer as it’s just after a stimulated cycle).  Apparently our blood tests showed nothing except one of us (I think me, but again I was dressing so couldn’t quite follow what the boys were saying) showed half-positive for a clotting thing.  And he couldn’t find some of the other test results, so will have to follow-up and see if they only went to the obstetrician.

Then I got to work and immediately went into back to back meetings.  Hooray.

I’m exhausted from lack of sleep.  I’m exhausted from exercise.  I’m exhausted with worry.  I’m exhausted by IVF.  I’m exhausted by trying to appear normal around people so they aren’t uncomfortable.

I’m just exhausted.

* BodyCombat: flailing around the gym to music like an uncoordinated blob while pretending to bash up my imaginary foe.  (Or FS – shhh, don’t tell!).

** BodyPump: flailing around the gym to music like an uncoordinated blob with weights.

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Categories: Musings
  1. Mel
    18/03/2010 at 1:59 am

    “I’m exhausted from lack of sleep. I’m exhausted from exercise. I’m exhausted with worry. I’m exhausted by IVF. I’m exhausted by trying to appear normal around people so they aren’t uncomfortable.

    I’m just exhausted.”

    Amen, and abiding with you.

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