Sweet Dreams?

I can safely say this week has been probably one of the most up and down in terms of emotional roller coaster. Having had the green light to go ahead with IVF, we were on a major high. It was actually palpable, for an evening my shoulders certainly felt lighter. I went to bed with such high hopes and excitement and a little bit of disbelief that it was actually about to happen. However, that night I had one of the worse nights sleep ever as I tossed and turned worrying about everything and anything. I am not sure how manage to find so much to worry about, but I do. I suppose I replaced the milestone of reaching one hurdle with that of another and all it's pitfalls. So on Wednesday the dreams and worry went something like this: What if they can't find any eggs? What if they can find eggs but they don't implant? What if I die on the operating table as they are harvesting the eggs - that really would make it all rather pointless (yes I realise a ludicrous thought but you try being me and my mind at 4am). Honestly I think I am a nut job at times, why can't I just see things on face value, enjoy the moment and worry about the rest as and when it happens? I suppose this is another layer of my impulsive obsessive nature and also entirely my mothers fault as she has done this night time worrying for years. Anyway the nights sleep was also dramatically reduced by the insistent and thoroughly irritating demands of our son. He is currently in the 'I won't sleep in my bed' phase - which basically means he is up all night, as am I. I am so sleep deprived and fed up of the situation that I have actually told my husband we are completely mad to go ahead with IVF, how could I POSSIBLY cope with number 2 or 3? Because my husband could sleep through the Blitz, he can't quite see the problem. I have explained it to him, several times, I think he got the hint when my eyes started rolling and I resembled a demented horse suffering from colic. As the gangsters would say, 'nuff said.
So here we are now, tired, irritable, me slightly crazed, and generally a bit battered and bruised. We can't even drown our sleep deprived sorrows in booze as we are on the wagon for the foreseeable (for me hopefully for a year or so....). I've been hiking daily to build up the strength to carry a baby and lose the horrible miscarriage weight, eating like a Hollywood actress (slightly bigger portions and I don't think we need to count last nights ribs and chips...small glitch) and generally leading a healthier life. I'm making firm plans for our trip, and this week I should get my drug protocol and we're off. Ooooo it's really scary and more than a lot exciting.
I'm keeping this short as the boys have gone to the supermarket and I want to be firmly in situ, hiding in our bedroom when they get back. I think an hour of catching up on the Archers is definitely what this Nearly Doctor prescribes...