Hope: that dirty tramp

Of course I'm having a rough week. Not a good way to start a Monday finding out your only pregnancy in 15 months isn't going to work out. And even better- that my body isn't clever enough to figure it out. Awesome.

But to make matters worse, I started feeling better yesterday. Strange that I'd all of a sudden feel the clouds lifting. And that's when it hit me- I'm hopeful. I'm praying for that once in a lifetime, never going to happen, we've never documented something like this kind-of miracle that my baby is actually fine. "Woops, we were wrong on Monday. Yeah, I know we've looked at a gazillion ultrasounds and this is our specialty, but you really fooled us. "

I know deep down how things will really go and I know how I'm going to leave feeling. But it's so hard to realize something is wrong when I have had NO bad symptoms. My stupid little uterus is just ticking along like it's actually doing something productive. In reality, it's just nourishing an empty placenta. Stupid uterus. I guess at least it's persistent. It doesn't just give up.

Aaron and I went to Stillwater yesterday to hang out for the day and it was great. We laughed and joked around and just enjoyed being together. We were just a normal couple having a good day. And I love him so much for giving me that. And for never faulting me for any of this. He has stood beside me 100% even though I know it hurts him too. I've never loved him more than I do right now. And he's the sole reason that I will try again. I will make him a dad.

In conclusion, infertility still stucks. Now my good friend, Hope, also sucks. We've officially destroyed the possibility of either of us becoming a parent before the age of 30. And I'm about to have to look at another dismal ultrasound tomorrow and then talk about our "options". What a spit-in-your-face, kick-you-in-the-kneecap, call-you-a-turdbucket kind of week...