I have to admit last week I got a little spun up about the timing of everything. After all, we’ve known that I have this little chunk of death in my boob for about a month & nothing is yet being done about it. (Well, that’s not entirely true, I’ve met with doctors, had tests run, learned a lot, been put in contact with people who’ve walked or are walking similar paths…. lot’s has been accomplished, but still, well, patience isn’t exactly an area of giftedness for me.) (And yes, chunk of death in my boob. Melodramatic, much! Just call me Susan Lucci!) Anyway, the fertility process has taken longer than expected and I was just feeling anxious.
I shared (or more accurately verbally vomited) my anxiety with/at Hubs and several friends. All were kind. Some just listened, some offered words of wisdom, hope, and love. Included in my friends’ words of encouragement and love was this gem, “Praying you’ll soon be cranking out the eggs faster than the Easter bunny.” Giggles ensued. Anxiety was banished!
Things finally fell into place and as of Monday, I was able to start my fertility meds. I’d commented to several people that I had not noticed any mood swings…pride commeth before the fall…This morning while standing in the kitchen and giving myself a shot I was listening & watching the Today Show as they shared a lovely story of a dog being returned to its family after 4 years apart. TV: “Now to a very special reunion story. Fluffy, the Terrier…missing 4 years…” Pictures of a little girl crying as her dog runs into her arms. Me: “I think the fertility meds might be working.” Hubs looks over to see me mid ugly cry and we both start to laugh. Hubs: “So want to watch Old Yeller tonight? Where the Red Fern Grows? Beaches?” Giant ass. (Who I love!)