Dear Lady Parts:
The last time I wrote to you was in March, that cruel month. At the time, I begged – nay pleaded – with you to just get on with the miscarriage that Dr. Uterus had predicted was going to happen. Of course, you didn’t listen to me, probably because you were harboring the little secret that, oops, I still was pregnant. Way to let me in on the secret there, honey!
I admit, I haven’t exactly been on speaking terms with you since then. Instead, I’ve preferred to let others do the talking – Dr. Salsa with the dildo cam, my thermometer for my BBT – but, it’s time that you and I sit down again for a heart-to-uterus talk.
Let me be blunt: what the f*ck is going on with you? Seriously, this is ri-g*ddamn-diculous. Ever since the FET, you have been totally whacked out. I had two periods within a month after the FET and now again, after the Clomid challenge. What gives? My temperatures have been all over the place at the wrong times or they’ve been static, again at the wrong times. I get periods after 12 or 20 days. I never claimed to be the most regular girl, but come on. You’re killing me with this damn uncertainty and wickedly freaky behavior. And, frankly, Mr. X is getting very confused.
Since I can’t seem to reason with you and you aren’t talking to me, I’ve decided that we need to see a counselor. Someone who can mediate our differences, someone, like Dr. Salsa, who speaks Uterus because apparently, I’m just not fluent.
I’m sorry it’s come to this, but I just can’t have this kind of tomfoolery. I’m trying to get pregnant, here, in case you hadn’t noticed – yea, all those troops bombarding you? that’s the whole TTC thing – and you are not cooperating.
Maybe someday when we are both shriveled and shrunken, we’ll look back on this and laugh. But, right now, we’re still in prime baby-making time and you are seriously making this way more complicated than it needs to be. So, get your act together before I’m forced to take more desperate measures.