Choosing Life

This has been my motto since Friday, "chose life". What point would it be to go around moping about my bad statistics? What spirit baby is going to want to come into my life if I just think about offing it because I can't get pregnant. What illusion am I buying into? No matter what, I am going to chose life.

Friday morning after the bad news, I didn't feel like eating. I went into the basement and dug out my juicer. I grabbed whatever vegetables I had in the frig and juiced up a big glass of veggie juice. I also got so mad that none of the "Sea of Supplements" helped me, that I took a supplement holiday. And you know what? I feel great. The juice really seems to be helping me. I've been juicing now twice a day since Friday. I can't eat enough vegetables in the day, so this makes sense to me to get more veggies in liquid form. My body likes it.

The real reason I started juicing is because somewhere in the back of my head, I remembered Julia_Indichova's book "Inconceivable" and how she started sucking down the juice to get pregnant with her high FSH. I actually went to one of Julia's workshops between IVF #1 and IVF #2. While I think she is a bit dramatic and very opinionated about IVF (did you miss the part where I said we had no choice because my husband had a vasectomy?!), I like her basic message that is to be your own authority. I pulled out her second book again, "The_Fertile_Female; How the Power of Longing for a Child Can Save Your Life and Change the World". It's a tall order, but I want to see just how far this longing will take me. I put all my confidence in my acupuncturists, and I didn't listen to my body. I didn't pay attention to all the stress I had been under with Fluffernutter passing away. Grief is so physically exhausting. I had my schedule, and I was sticking to it. Death is so inconvenient.

In a way, I am glad I got the bad news. It was a wake up call. I don't know if I can turn the tide of time against me anymore. I did pull it off for awhile, though I have not given up yet. Sure, I spent a day wallowing in self pity, but I needed a swift kick in the pants to wake up. This is not going to be easy at age 42 and I'll probably be 43 by the time I do IVF again (if they let me). I have to up the ante. I also have to listen to pay attention to myself better and try try try to get out of my head. Giving grief its space wasn't in the plan, but I see that I should have respected that. Another hard lesson learned. I hope to post more soon about my recent overhaul.