adventures in things falling apart...and unusual attachments

First, let me start with an update to my current cycle. Not only is my lining failing to thicken to the desired 7mm as of this past Friday, but my "resolving" cyst from last month is refusing to...well, resolve. I also have (or had at this point as by now it is far beyond acceptable size and is now past its prime and usefulness) a mature follicle-ONE mature follicle. For God's sake, I can get that without all this medication. So the nurse decided it was best to let this follicle go (and grow to degenerative uselessness) and see if the other smaller follicles will get large enough over the weekend. The ones we are waiting for now are quite small-the largest being only 10mm, then next at 9mm, and 2 others at a mere 5mm. Lets hope they all grow to 18-20 by tomorrow morning and my stubborn lining thickens because I will be out of necessary medications to continue on any longer. I must trigger tomorrow night... I will ovulate whether I am ready or not since I don't have any more ganirelex to stop it from happening on its own.

Ah yes, I remember fondly my last cycle that went like textbook. Lots of great follicles, thick lining...and 97 million sperm to find their way. Those were the days. Turns out it doesn't make a bit of a difference on the outcome. Maybe this will be the way it goes... the struggle and uncertainty will lead to the desired outcome. After all, I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth. Anything worth having I have had to work for. Perhaps this is no different.

I am attempting to lower my stress level since it has been abnormally high. I am terribly emotionally charged (as you may recall my post about crying like a baby to the Deadliest Catch) and I have been reduced to tears over the smallest of events. However, my car crapping out on me is not a small thing. I am not a material person, but this is a piece of practical equipment that gets me to my job-and doctor appointments at the butt crack of dawn. This is the car I dreamed of having and I am quite fond of it.

They not only do not make the model anymore-the company doesn't even exist. They decided the Pontiac line was not worth keeping. I thought once it died on me I would be fine saying goodbye to it and replacing it with a new piece of practical equipment. This too-shockingly enough-makes me sad. Apparently according to Jeff, it is a lengthy and costly fix, being that it is the transmission that is going-but he is willing to fix it if I want him to. It still runs right now, but I fear it won't get much farther-or even down the road. Do I let him fix it and see how much more life we get out of it... or do I let go and move on?

It appears I have some attachment issues in more than one facet of my life...