If you know me, you know that “stress” is one of my main action verbs. (It’s true even if you don’t know me.) I found that as the days went by with no word from E2, I was stressing more and more about what to do next.

I ovulate in a few days and there will be no sperm around. Since we didn’t want this to happen again, we decided to return a hesitant but desperate gaze to the sperm banks this weekend (we looked at banks when we started this process a couple of years ago). A decision made. And wouldn’t you know it? We get a call from E2. It’s as if mama Universe was waiting for us to give up.

The last time we heard from E2, he told us that he recently had a cyst removed or something, but that he’d be able to get all the testing done in time for this cycle. Then he disappeared. And, now that it’s too late, he calls and says he’s ready to work.

Our initial instinct was to say (with a Beyonce attitude), “Uh uh!” But then a calmer refrain—“better late than never”—wiggled its way into our damning position. So I called him back last night. It was the first time I talked to him since we met. I asked him if the 3 of us could get together tomorrow to resituate (not a word?) and see where we’re all “at.” He started apologizing right away, as if I’d said, “We want to get together tomorrow to publicly flog you.” He explained that yesterday was the first day he’d left his house and been off pain meds. Now, I’ve had a cyst removed, snap snap. Methinks this was a different animal altogether. I wish he had explained what was happening and hadn’t told us that he thought he could get it done this month. It would’ve saved us from so much stress when we didn’t hear from him about getting his lab orders, etc.

This might be a good point at which to mention the fact that I am taking a meditation workshop. I have resisted meditation for so long; but this class is not about the Buddha or “aum”ing. So far, I’ve been working on noticing when things aren’t bears. Not enough money for mortgage? Not a bear charging at me. No sperm to get pregnant? Not a bear wanting to eviscerate me. You get the idea.

So, with my relaxation toolbelt bulging with conscious breathing and body scanning techniques, I will go meet with E2 tomorrow and hope for the best.

(Oh, dear god, can we trust him? What if he doesn’t communicate again?
Wait, I’ve got this… Not a bear!)


1 Response to “Chillax!”

  1. 1 Steph February 27, 2010 at 9:33 pm

    Ahh–not a bear. That mantra will get you a long way, especially once you come face to face with a very opionated, overly-tired toddler:) Your future will give you ample opportunity to continue to practice!

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