Sunday blahs

I wonder how many of my posts start with that title. I should go back and look. DH and I often discuss how we both suffer from the Sunday blah syndrome. Do other people?

My day started fine, but the following things occured which have sent me spiraling downward into a serious case of the blahs:

1) I decide to start running again. Once upon a time I used to run all the time and actually trained for a marathon before my mom died. This morning I could hardly run two miles. And now my back is killing me.

2) After my run, I noticed I was having lots of icky spotty discharge. DH and I tried to dtd, but had to stop after I noticed I was staining my sheets (yes. gross. I know). This sent me into a "I'm sick of this NEVER ENDING miscarriage and should have just had a d&c 2 months ago" frenzy of rage. Not to mention humiliation that I bled all over my poor DH :(

3) My neighbor is pregnant and due in August with a baby girl. I've been avoiding her, but we were both out in the gardens today and I felt like I should be neighborly - so I went over and chatted a bit. We were discussing how many neighbors are pregnant, and it turns out Creekwood Drive is baby central. I whined to Steve afterward and he said, "Well, Maren, people are always going to be having babies. You better get used to it." KThanx.

4) Just for kicks, I got on FertilityFriend and updated my chart. It is pretty depressing. I've had 11 positive beta hcg tests. That's more than most women probably get in their lifetime. I've had days upon days of spotting. I'm currently on Day 92 of this unending cycle. That is longer than my previous unending cycle of March 2006. Just for comparison sake if anyone is interested -- here is my Current Cycle and here is my Miscarriage #1 cycle

5) Jenna refused to nap and is MS CLINGY. Finally I sent her away with DH to run errands. She didn't want to go (she never wants to go with DH when I'm home), so he ends up taking her kicking and screaming to the car. I feel like a terrible mother and DH feels like a kidnapper.

So, now I'm sitting here alone in my quiet house, feeling sorry for my reproductively-challenged self and wishing I had already started my Zoloft - because perhaps this is the exact scenario that anti-depressants are designed to help you avoid.

PS - I'm asking for a sonogram tomorrow when I go for labs.