Last night, I came home and fell asleep at around 7:30 p.m. I woke a few times, but mostly I slept straight on through to this morning. That’s ten – ten! – blessed hours of sleep. Thank you, Lupron.
Here’s the deal: I haven’t slept well in over a year.
I had a six-month stretch in which my job was more stressful than any professional situation I’ve ever encountered – the “We’re thinking about letting you go maybe this week or perhaps next week, or maybe not at all sorry but do you think you could work with us on this?” kind of stress. I also began the diagnostic phase of the IF journey during that time, and try showing up to a job that already makes you want to cry after your OB/GYN looks at your test results for all of 3 seconds and says (and read this to yourself in the same perky voice as Sydney from Grey’s Anatomy), “Hmm, it looks like you might not be ovulating. Have a nice day!”
(For the record, that wasn’t the problem.)
I started my current job, hooray. But the IF testing continued, with 12 fruitless acupuncture sessions, some musty herbal remedies, an HSG, and the three failed IUIs with Clomid. I have not slept well in over a year. I consider a good night to mean falling asleep around 11:00 or midnight only to wake up again at 3:30, and then 4:30, and then 5:30, and then… Anxiety is clearly the culprit. Now my patterns have gotten stuck like this.
Until now, apparently.
Oh, Lupron. I actually kind of like you. Nevermind that it’s 11:15 a.m. and I could grab another 10 hours, easy, right here and now, or that I’ve had a dull headache for three days now. I! Have! Slept!!!
The name of the game is small mercies.