Mind Games

A couple of days ago my denial went into overdrive, and I became convinced that this process would eventually work. I felt confident. I felt good. I bought the Kindle edition of a book that seems designed to take the money of desperate women such as myself, and I powered through it in almost one night, and ordered one of the supplements it suggests, and resolved to ask my doctor about the other one it suggests, and I felt good.

Then, the denial cracked. I realized that with each failed cycle my odds of success diminish. I suspect I'm down to about 5% now. And if something has a 5% chance of happening, that means that it is certainly not happening.

And that's when I got depressed.

I know it's only been a week since the last cycle officially failed, and a week isn't actually that much time. So I'm trying to cut myself some slack. I've found a new exercise class. I've gone once, and I felt really good afterward, so I'm going to keep going. I'm looking forward to things, like finishing this book draft and going away for the summer. But all of those things right now are reaching me through a fog of sadness. I'm not as productive as I should be. I don't have as much energy. Right now, I should be getting ready for an interview, primping and whatnot, and instead I'm writing a blog entry about how sad I am. I'd better hurry or I won't have time to get my eyebrows done for this interview, and then I'll look sallow and wooly-eyed and miserable, and it will be a wasted opportunity to build my brand, and also will be on the internet for fucking eternity.

I'm sad. I'm sad. I'm sad.

No baby.

There is no baby.

There will be no baby.

I will not cry before I start getting ready for this interview.

I will wait, and I will trust that one day, hopefully soon, I will feel happy again.