Four Year Anniversary

Yesterday was my anniversary. Four years – it seems like such a short time, and it also feels like forever. I love my husband beyond words, and have such a deep appreciation for him. Yesterday I sent him flowers for the first time, and he loved it. All week I've been looking forward to getting flowers of my own, but then never came at work. I was so sad, and was trying to figure out what was going on all the way home. But when I got there, DH had cleaned up our living room to create a staging area to put one dozen red roses where I'd see them when I first walked in. It was so sweet! We kept it low key, just had dinner at Souplantation, since we had our big tada last weekend with a night at the Grand Californian and dinner at Downtown Disney. I am so happy to be married to this man. I love marriage, and I love my marriage to him.

Now the week is almost over. I'm a bit glad, but not really looking forward to the weekend. I don't have a lot of things that I need to do (beyond the cleaning and a few errands), which means I'll have a lot of time to sit with my thoughts and feelings. I don't know that I want to do that.

I'm seriously considering going back into therapy. This anxiety thing is no fun. And I do take an anti-depressant, which helps with the anxiety. It's actually to prevent migraines, and works wonders for that as well. But when I was given the choice of an anti-depressant or a med used for epilepsy (I'm interested as to why they both work with migraines), I figured why not kill two birds with one stone. And for the most part, it's been working great. On the migraines AND on the anxiety. But this has been a rough week.

One bad week is not enough to send me to therapy. I want to wait and see if scheduling the surgery to remove my polyps will help me – see if it's the waiting and the having to skip yet one more cycle that's putting me in a funk. But I also want to do something about it before I get used to feeling this way, used to the nervous, worried feeling I've been carrying around with me all week. It's so easy to get used to that feeling, and then to forget that it's not who I am. I know that some REs will require their patients to see therapists while undergoing treatment, because let's face it – this infertility thing is pretty hard to deal with.

I was supposed to hear from the RE's office by now whether or not I got my authorization. I'll have to call them on Monday.