Mixed Messages (with update)

Ah….I am now home in the southeast where it is freakishly cooler than it was in the northeast. Talula and Charlie where thrilled to see me, Mother too. But GM. Oh my dear, sweet, GM. Seeing the look of happiness on her face when I walked out of the baggage area was pure wonderful. It is amazing to be so wanted. She thinks I am just here for a visit but hopefully (once I don’t leave!) she will remember that I am here to stay.

Having some problems getting some answers from the Northeast Clinic in regards to the blood-work I had done yesterday morning. My estrogen was well over 1,100, but my progesterone was 30.1 and therefore “a little lower than we would like to see.” The crap part is that the nurse that left the message had no idea what meds I was currently on so her message went something like this, “If you are not on progesterone you need to be. And if you are then you should now be twice a day.” MMMMkay. But what do I do if I am already on progesterone twice a day AND 1cc of PIO?  I went ahead and gave myself an extra PIO shot before I went to bed last night and a bit more this morning.

If I have to do Via Vagina THREE times a day I might never recover. Honestly I would rather inject myself 3 times a day than have any more medicine to shove down there. I am so not a fan of that lingering not so fresh, slip and slide feeling in my hot pocket. And I have to wonder if my body is just expelling the goop too much and that is why my #’s are low. Not to be too female technical but two days ago things were so in a state in that area that my liner actually gave up and retreated down my leg and landed on my shoe waving a white flag. Yeah. Not fun.

I have called the clinic twice now and am have been told to stand by. blah blah

So here is the part of my brain that I hate. I hate that when I hear things that indicate that I have underperformed I immediately start packing my bags for a trip to the dark place. It is such an irrational mental move. I mean 3 years of progesterone knowledge should be ingrained into my skull: progesterone numbers to not = pregnancy success or failure. But did that stop me from going instantly to the, “it didn’t work” place. I know. dumb. I am trying to force myself to quiet that negative voice. And really- progesterone is something that I can fix. But I’m being honest here. I admit to getting depressed about it.

UPDATE:

OK. You guys fixed my head. I am now way more chill about the number. I feel silly for even having a moment of freak-out flare-up. The clinic called back. They say they did not ask if I was on progesterone, but prometrium. I say toe may toe, tah mah tah- let’s call the whole thing off. Bleh.

Mother is now in the drivethru at the pharmacy picking up my new prescription. So now I will be getting the juice via the mouth, via the hoo ha and via the inject site on my hip. I should be a fun chick to hang around. This will make symptom gazing next to impossible.