Bench warmer

Not a good day for the pregnancy journey. If I want to get knocked up I have to have another surgery (myomectomy). But this time, over-night-in-the-hospital, incision-across-my-abdomen, catheter-in-my-bladder, and-a-pain-pump surgery. Like a c-section, but instead of a cute little baby, they take out a chunk of my uterus. And, given the size of the fibroid, they might not be able to take out the polyp at the same time. Which would then lead to a third surgery. And, due to the size of the fibroid, Dr. IVF says if I do get pregnant, I'll have to have a (real) c-section, when the time comes. And there's a good chance my insurance won't cover the next (and the next) surgery.

ANGRY that Dr. OB missed this HUGE fibroid that Dr. IVF called, "a very good form of birth control." (and found on the US in a matter of seconds. wtf.)

SAD that we've hit yet another road block and that my body has been harboring these infertility secrets all these years and I never knew.

DISAPPOINTED that we're still sitting on the sidelines, waiting to get into the game.

FRUSTRATED that my control-freak self is having to let go. Of a lot.