Human Pincushion

Today was the first day in all my 26 years that I ever had to deliberatley stick myself with a sharp object. How often does one get to write that sentence. I now have something in common with the street junkies I arrest in my day job... track marks... (which is just a whole other blog) Good thing I will never fit into a bikini, to show these wonderful marks off, frankly its against the law at my size, if its not it should be (I can admit this). I think now is the time I am realising how fortuneate I am to have a husband in medicine.. he was totally a great coach.. We held the needle together before injecting it into my fatty navel. Now I believe he really feels as though he is truely a piece of this journey. I mean before this I would keep secret when the egg was about to drop, so that I wouldn't be pressuring him into performance anxiety. But now he asks questions, and reminds me why we began down this path. I also see him get upset more easily about kids, and parents, I think that it is starting to affect him more than it has in the past.. He asks why it appears that the scrotes of the world can procreate like bunnies, and we can't even get one day of joy, even if it doesn't last, just to know that we can. He asks how I am feeling about all the tests and what they are doing to me. He is interested in the results of each test. His job is to help people who need help, in the most desperate of times he is there to save you... but he can't help us, he can't make me ovulate, he can't make all of our pain go away. I think he is struggling because he is helpless. I caught him watching empty arms,(http://www.vocalicious.com/empty_arms/empty_arms_mod.html) a site put up by a couple with their own struggle of infertility, last night, and he was shaken. He told me that sometimes we just have to cry.... He is right.. sometimes we do..........