The elephant in the room of my life

Aka the crib in the basement. Aka the blankets in the drawer. Aka my ever dwindling sanity. 
I debated not posting this. And even debated not writing it. I've started and stopped this post more times in the last week than I can count.
But the truth is, I started posting in here regularly as a place to journal our journey and a place to hash out my feelings. This is how I cope. Or something. 
I'm feeling increasingly frustrated with my body. I don't know how or why it's doing what it is but I don't like it. I finally got some sort of ovulation pattern but now I'm back to the "maybe that's the start of a period, maybe it's not?" 
...I never truly appreciated not having breakthrough bleeding until now. 
I really just want this cycle to end so we can get back on track with the meds and push through to the IUI this summer. I feel like every day my cycle doesn't end is another day we're pushed back by. Combined with last cycle it's like am I CD28? am I CD58? 
The doctor said not to start the meds until I'm sure I'm CD3. Not maybe CD3 but completely certain. I'm scared I'll never be certain of that ever again. And it's silly. Of course it's silly. I'm literally at a point where if the doctor asked me, "when was your last period?" I would have to say 'I don't know, you pick. November or December? What sounds good to you?'
It's frustrating. And exhausting. 
And I'm fucking tired of people telling me I should be more positive and 2015 is going to be our year. It might be, probably not though. I thought 2013 would have been our year. And then 2014. I think maybe even 2012. But no, here we are, January 2015. No closer than we were a year ago. I don't know if that false positive is the straw that broke the camel's back or the cycle that wouldn't end but I'm losing ground. 
I don't want to be positive. I want to be realistic. I want one person to say hey, your feelings are valid and maybe it won't happen. I want someone else to acknowledge that this is not a situation where the end justifies the means. I want someone to acknowledge that I am barren. I'm over praying and hoping. I'm done being positive. 
I don't care if so and so got pregnant when they stopped trying or when they tried to adopt. I don't care if we still have options. Even if we do have a kid by some miracle... pregnancy is not a cure for infertility. There is no cure. In fact, if I remember everything they told me, we just enter a whole new level of stress. But even if it worked out... All this shit doesn't just disappear. and heaven forbid we wanted to have another and had to wade through all this shit again. At the end of the day, my ovaries still produce cysts and I only have half a uterus. It's not just a journey with an end game. This is how my body's betrayed me. How the universe betrayed my body. How science can't help my body. 
For a little while, I'd like to be angry.