My appointment to meet my new GP is in about two hours and I'm trying to keep myself feeling level-headed. I don't know what to expect but I'm assuming we'll at least glance at the specifics of those lab results, and discuss moving on to new tests and examinations of a gynaecological nature. G isn't coming with me this time but I know he wants me to discuss our concerns that maybe he isn't "shooting" with enough force to get his swimmers to my cervix and beyond.
I wish G hadn't cancelled his appointment a couple of weeks ago with his GP because I think that's what his doctor wanted to touch-base with him on during that visit.
I have been freaking out all this week about the possibility that we may either never have children, or might only be able to with a lot of medical help. G has said that he doesn't want us to go through IVF. On one hand I'm glad he doesn't think it's fair or pleasant that I go through the process required, but on the other hand I wish he'd be a bit more flexible--if that's what we have to do, if that's our only chance, shouldn't we be open to it?
I'm terrified that if it does really take years for us to conceive he might close down completely to having a baby under the pretence of being "too old". I have a little bit of time left to do this, in fact I think I'm just slightly past the prime age overall to have a baby (taking into consideration education, personal achievements, travel, financial and relationship status-wise, and amassed life-experience), but G is constantly concerned with fighting against the passing of time these days. Time passes a lot faster for him, he says. I get that, but I don't think it's an excuse to limit your pursuit of a fully-lived life.
On a much sunnier note, derby practise last night was great! Once again, roller derby has proved itself to be the best therapy I can get. Another freshy achievement: the start of baby-sized cross-overs and T-stops! Next time I have Kitty Glitter count how many laps around the track I can do in 5 minutes, it's going to be quite a bit closer to the 27 goal-point than ever before. By doing cross-overs rather than coasting sticky-wheels style I can maintain, and even pick up more speed, and that's huge. It means I can keep up better with the pack when we're going at a faster-than-moderate pace, and it gives me the potential to dart around blockers and stuff if I do jam occasionally. The T-stops are going to take me a little bit longer than cross-overs still because leaning on my edge wheels feels so unnatural and I'm totally in that phase of over-thinking it every time. I'm pushing myself, and it feels good--even my knees were sweaty by the time I was done the two hours and pealing my gear off.
Also, it looks like on March 7th we'll be doing another team photo shoot (I missed last Saturday's because of work and the film festival). This morning I dug through my dresser drawers and basically figured out two outfits for the shoot; one is a short black dress I bought in NYC when I was 20, and the other is a white and black striped dress that would totally work perfectly if I do get into reffing matches as part of the Nerd Herd. While I was sort of playing dress-up I was rocking out to the Pixies, and I totally felt like deep-down I've still "got it". I'm out of shape still, and that sucks, but in fishnets, a short dress, and my faux-leather jacket I've got legs for days--and that's always been my "problem area": thunder thighs! I actually felt hot for the first time in ages, and with my ruffled-up rocked-out long bob and bangs I looked sort of like I was in my early-to-mid 20s again. If I wear the gold tie with "fuck work" printed all over the bottom, it'll match perfectly with the mustard coloured cover font of a book of local ghost stories if I want to pull in a prop.
If my ex's could see me in my derby-best they'll all be kicking themselves....sigh. At least I think G still feels like a lucky guy, right? TTC is so not sexy and fun at this point.
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