Everything was negative. Nothing wrong with FSH or any other hormone in my body. So what does that mean? Well, that means I'm way too stressed out to squeeze an egg out of my ovaries! I want so badly to fill the prescription the doc gave me so that I have the chance to go through a normal menstrual cycle, but my pharmacist husband is against it. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, right?
Yet, that's exactly how I feel: broken. It's like I'm the Energizer Bunny without its drum or a box of Crayolas without the primary colors. On the surface, everything appears to be normal and functioning as it should. Then you reach for a red to color Winnie the Pooh's T-shirt, and the closest thing you have is maroon. And no matter how well you have convinced yourself that maroon is a perfectly acceptable color to use for Pooh's shirt, it just isn't right.
Even so, I will try my best not to allow myself to panic just yet. If I do, I'll just stress out more, causing my ovaries to build a fortress around themselves, forever obscuring my finite number of ova from their destiny--making me a mother.
To be continued...