My beta level today is 17.  Down from 217 last week, I think.  I have already picked my transfer date: January 8th.  This is two days after we return from our New York trip, and one day after my mammogram.

Mammogram.  Ugh!  This will be my second six-month follow-up to last January’s biopsy freakout.  My first six-month follow-up in July was a four-hour extravaganza, ultimately negative.  This one should be quicker, and after that I should go back to once a year.  But the trauma of my ectopic pregnancy has me worried sick about my mammogram.  Statistics are NOT my friend.  Scheduling a mammogram the day before a transfer is just… asking for it.  But I’m sure as hell not scheduling it just before Christmas (so I have to wait through the holidays for a biopsy appointment?) and I’m not going to skip it, and I don’t want to have it during the 2 week wait or during my pregnancy.

If any.

How I wish we could do these things like Little Betty, my cat.  They knock her out, clip her claws, check her teeth, do other things to her that I don’t want to know about… I would really like that for me.  A huge shot of that yummy twilight stuff, and then mammogram – how ? they would get my girls onto the cold steel plates when I’m not standing up ? So not my problem – pap smear, full leg and bikini wax while they’re Down There, colonoscopy, clean my teeth, wax my brows and touch up my roots.  THAT’s a full day behind the red door.  I would wake up smooth, blonde, and giggling, and only start to feel completely violated a few hours later.  I would miss the back-and-forth-for-more-pictures drama that is my mammogram day, and just wake up when they made up their minds what-all they were seeing in all those pictures.

Oh well.

My beta HAS GOT to come to zero next Tuesday, because that will be day 16.  My doctor will let me start Lupron on day 21 only if my beta gets to zero before then.  If not, I’ll have to wait a whole ‘nother cycle before I can transfer, pushing things to early February.  Not the end of the world unless you’re ME, full of grief, rage and impatience.

I’m having a lot of sulky, petty, angry feelings about people getting pregnant on the first try, getting to be pregnant for Christmas, getting to be pregnant at all, getting pregnant from actually having sex with their husbands, actually having a baby at the end of their pregnancy, having a pregnancy that lasts more than 5 weeks.  Et cetera.  Just bitter.

This means I am going to become grudgy and entitled, thinking that of course this cycle will be the one because it’s my turn, after all I’ve been through, and it’s not fair, when none of that has the slightest effect on reality.  It’ll be my turn when it’s my turn, if ever, and there’s no fair and there’s no justice and things might suck for me for a whole lot longer.  There’s just no way of knowing.

What a downer.  If you want happy posts go look up all the pregnant people.  I’ll still be here sulking.