I was all set to come back from the holidays refreshed and relaxed and able to write shiny, happy posts about how much I love my kid and stuff. That lasted all of 20 minutes into the new year, which is when M woke up, screaming for no reason, a performance she has repeated every sleeping hour since then. I am a complete zombie, though things aren't as bad as they were yesterday -- my body still adjusts to sleep deprivation quickly.
And then there's the looming stress over our reproductive efforts. Having put off IVF for one month, I'm pretty anxious to make sure we don't miss our chance this month, but the Boy doesn't seem to share my sense of urgency. All he had to do was go in for his preliminary bloodwork and for a sperm analysis, both of which need to be done before I can schedule the class that gets the process started, and we only have two weeks in which to get everything lined up to catch the start of my next cycle. He did the bloodwork, because I nagged him, found a location close to home, figured out its hours and reminded him to go. But I've been nagging him about the sperm analysis for days now, and he's just not calling and scheduling it. I know he's dreading it (and truth be told, it's not the most dignified thing to have to do), but for heaven's sake! All he has to do in this entire IVF process is wank into a cup a few times. I'll be the one shoving needles into my injection-phobic body, hopping myself up on hormones and having eggs forcibly removed from my body via yet another needle. Not to mention, I'm the one doing all the research, the scheduling and the worrying. You'd think he'd quit whining and procrastinating over his poor, poor dignity. God.
And the killer is, he really, really wants another child. You can practically see the hunger in his eyes when he sees our friends' newborns. Every month that I haven't gotten pregnant, he's been actively sad. Yet his desire to be actively involved in our efforts to have a baby seems to be limited to getting guaranteed nookie for half of every month. I have to say, I'm not loving this attitude. I really don't want to feel like I'm pushing him into IVF if he's not ready, but I also cannot deal with trying in vain month after month, knowing that it's me that's causing our repeated failures. You'd think that he'd be more enthusiastic, if not because IVF's our best chance at a second child, than because the status quo is killing me, and IVF at least offers a chance to make it better.