Better, but still strange *With quick update*

So, I wanted to punch a drug addict on the subway yesterday.

Before you decide that I am a terribly cruel person, please hear (read) me out.

I was on my way home after work. The PIO anger had gradually subsided into a dull presence by the afternoon. I did, however, come down with a bitch of a headache that was morphing into a migraine for sure. I took the 25-minute walk to the subway to which I have become accustomed instead of sitting on a bus that is stuck in traffic for 25 minutes. It was very cold out but I didn't care. I have come to look forward to these brisk walks, especially when I have a headache at the end of the day from sitting at a computer.

I was feeling the usual fatigue after a day at work when I got on the subway. There were only a few seats so I chose one that was 2 seats away from a woman that, well, looked *questionable.* But she didn't look violent or anything so I took my chances. Sitting down is preferable so that I can read my little book with relaxing sayings and meditation exercises.

The woman started speaking to everyone around her in a VERY LOUD VOICE. Asking each person for a dollar. And telling us we were heartless and that we should be ashamed of ourselves for being so cold-hearted.

I am not a professional expert on the signs and symptoms of drug intoxication. But as a seasoned Boston public transportation commuter, I consider myself to be savvy in this regard. Not to mention my previously-mentioned obsession with the show "Interv.ention."

It was somewhat clear to me that she was on drugs. Especially since, when she stood up, she was not exactly strongly rooted (even when the car was not in motion.) And she had a creepy look in her eyes the one time I made eye contact with her.

Then, THEN, she began to tell her story as to why she needed the money. Her sister and nephew are in Iraq serving this country. Her godson was in the military and was killed in Iran (??) She came to Boston from NYC to clean off his grave and to put flowers on it. Her change purse had been stolen or lost at the grave site. She needed $20 to catch the cheap bus back to NYC.

Her family gave their lives for us and our freedom, she said, so couldn't we spare a dollar?

Ok, so at this point, she is practically yelling in my ear. I was not about to give her any money. I learned from a professional who worked with the homeless years ago to never offer money. Food is fine (which I have done.) Or directions to a nearby shelter, also fine. Money could easily end up being used for self destruction. Since I used to work near a homeless shelter for veterans, I saw so many men kill themselves by gulping mouthwash in the morning in order to get rid of the shakes. In fact, even though I use mouthwash, I can't stand the smell of it for that reason.

Anyway, there was no way I was giving this woman any money. I wasn't falling for her act, particularly because she had what looked strangely like a change purse in her left hand. So I continued to listen to my iPo.d and tried to read my book about relaxing.

But then it got worse. And I started to get angry.

She went on and on about how heartless we all were. And, when one person gave in and slipped a dollar into her hand, she said, "oh great, one more dollar, I only have $18 more to go, which I won't get."

Then, THEN she said as she pointed to her stomach through her winter coat, "You see this? I am not fat, I am PREGNANT. And I am diabetic and out of insulin."

I nearly choked on tears at that moment.

I am *very* aware of my dark side. I have a cruel streak that is only really turned against myself. In fact, it is THE one way that I consistently interact with myself.

But I work incredibly hard not to subject others to what I do to myself. So much so that I have only recently been able to be honest with someone when I am angry at them.

I am also a very sensitive person. I worry about the fact that there are people who starve here and around the globe. That people are mistreated in sweatshops. That young girls in poor countries are sold as s.ex slaves. These factors DO worry me. And I have to talk myself through the fact that I do nothing right now to make any of it better. One of the main reasons I wanted that federal job so badly is because I wanted to learn the implementation side of policy in the hope that I could someday revamp an agency for the better.

But, BUT, BUT

Here is a woman who, if she were pregnant (and she did look it, though it was not immediately obvious because of her winter coat), was hurting her baby each and every day.

She's a drug addict yet was able to get knocked up.

While my *ss is becoming bruised from shots to try to make a pregnancy happen.

Not to mention all of the other trials and tribulations - psychological and physicial - that we endure in our attempts to conquer IF.

I know, I know that my feelings towards her were not loving and kind. She is clearly in a very bad place in her life and needs help. Who knows what she went through to bring her to that point.

But she was begging me, begging all of us, for money to shoot up (or snort or whatever) a substance that could destroy her child's chance at a normal life.

So, I wanted to punch her. But I didn't, of course. I didn't say or do anything yet I fantasized about it. I just breathed a sigh of relief when she left the train.

As for how I feel about my chances that ivf #1 was a success, well, that's more complicated......

I continue to experience uterine cramps intermittently throughout the day, some of them relatively intense, others are more like a heaviness of sorts. I experience the taste of food more intensely - flavors are sharper somehow. I crave both salt and liquids simultaneously. And, more strangely, I have been, well, having discharge, which is perfectly clear yet somewhat plentiful. I actually sense it sometimes when I am in the middle of doing something else. Weird.

All of these symptoms could be and are *probably* side effects from the progesterone, though they are not the ones listed on the websites I have consulted.

The only symptom that I have that is routinely listed is depression. I am not depressed but I feel some of the features that come along with it. For example, if I am close to depressed, I begin to feel like everyone is judging me negatively. It makes me a bit more socially anxious. But I now know how to manage it by reminding myself that this is my perception and to focus more on how people are behaving towards me.

I am ok, really, about this cycle if it fails. I learned yesterday that Fira and Thira's two siblings were frozen on Sunday so we can do a frozen cycle if this one fails. I am fully expecting to have to use those embies. One of the reasons I am tracking my symptoms here is because I want to know how I feel during a failed cycle in order to compare it to future cycles.

I think I have obtained the "cautious optimism" that I was advised to shoot for by the Center.

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Ok, dear friends.

I *know* that this could be from the progesterone but....

BUT.....

Rhythmic cramps on the left side of my uterus. Pretty intense. Have been going on for 20 minutes or more - at least in a fashion that is rhythmic enough for me to recognize.

(I have been experiencing cramps all day, and somewhat frequently, just not as strongly and frequently in a such short period of time.)

At first I assumed that it was my intestines since I have upped my dose of foli.c acid (and we KNOW that my intestines go on strike when I take vitamins.) But it doesn't feel like that at all.

And it is NOT my stomach. I know it.

Ok, now that I write about it they have subsided somewhat.

Maybe they are the result of intestines refusing to work and a stomach that continues to recover from the fire balls known as tetracy.cline.

I remain cautiously optimistic, for sure.

(How could I not?)