Standard Deviations

Saturday I broke down. The kind of breakdown where you cry audibly and it makes your body tired the rest of the day. On the surface the tears were about my thesis. I am currently in the statistical analysis and discussion portion of the thesis. It's the last part on the written portion before the drafts start. And for some reason I couldn't wrap my mind around the concepts. I got an A in statistics. . I know the concepts but not last Saturday. Last Saturday, I couldn't deal.

And after one too many martinis with Ali on Saturday night I realized that these tears are bigger than me. That my infertility is bigger than me. That my body is weak and tired and begging for me to stop and all I do is inject it with more drugs. . .more pills. . more forgein objects and more emotional drama.

I'm waiting for my period. . .like a little girl. Waiting for my period because it becomes day one of my cycle. . .the IVF cycle. . .the cycle we have been bracing ourselves for.

Tears are an outward expression of something inward and they are pure. There are no inhabitions with tears. . . they come when your body can't take it anymore and sometimes they come at the wrong time. But last Saturday was a good cry. The kind you have when you feel like the world has done you wrong and you're not getting your way. Sometimes I just need to be real with myself and have the emotional temper tantrum.

I slept like a baby that night.