Randomness from the new life (because Spring is here):
I have not one clue what Cycle Day I am on.
I had a difficult time locating my thermometer a few days ago (the BBT type). Oh, and I needed it to check the doggie's temp, not mine.
Instead of trotting out my stock "Nope, just a dog" in response to an old friend asking me on Facebook whether I have kids, I gave the more authentic reply that went, essentially, "No — wanted them, didn't happen." Telling the whole brief truth didn't even hurt.
I invited PEOPLE over to dinner . . . at MY HOUSE . . . much like I used to do before spending too much time rolled up in a figurative ball of helpless angst, trying to predict what might happen/not happen next in my own Lifetime-friendly slasher movie Nightmare on I(V)F Street. (Note: I call total Dibs! on capitalizing on that idea.)
I had an unexpected little crying jag last night and made it to the bathroom before DH noticed. The significance? This was the first outburst in 6 days. I've now doubled the earlier hard-won record!
And, I've made a pile of things I need to purge from the house. Strangely, they all came in 3s (3 being the number of major surgeries I underwent for the cause; years of TTC effectively wasted before getting the "right" RE; pregnancies I experienced; IVFs we did; and pretty embryos put back during the final hurrah): pregnancy books; pregnancy exercise DVDs; deeply discounted body-transitions-friendly shirts I bought after seeing IVF #2 Baby's heartbeat; collectible teddy bears I've saved since my youth for the vague notion of a future child; my old dance recital costumes that were sent to me "to pass on"; and bottles of fertility-enhancing supplements (which, btw, proved harmful in my case . . . those will be trashed). These things must go.