Back from vacation. Perhaps one of the best weeks of my recent life. We went to visit my family and we took our babies. Our two, sweet, precious, cuddly, extremely active and overly vociferous siamese cats. Yes, we drove for twelve hours, in a Pontiac Vibe, with TWO siamese cats. Interestingly, this did not bother me in the least.
We arrived at my parents' house to learn it was the first week of school there, so my mom was going to be babysitting my brother's two year old son. The most adorable boy on the planet (who told his very first joke in my car: "What mells? Somethin' mells! Its Unca Got! Unca Got mells like poop! My tell a joke!!!!") It was an odd feeling, spending so much time with a toddler after all that I've been through this year. It sounds stupid to say it, but it was, well, bittersweet. It hurt so bad knowing that my brother (who had spent years thinking, for I have no idea what reason, that he could not father a child) has such a beautiful son, and that I may not ever get to that point.
I'm in sort of an odd place. We made a plan with Dr. P for where we are going. My husband and I are ready to begin trying, and should ovulate around the end of the week/middle of next week. I find myself both excited at the prospect, while at the same time shaking in terror. I don't know what to expect. I know I can't get excited even if I do get a positive test. I've lost that ability to be happy at the thought of pregnancy. For me, and for many who have suffered as I have, happiness is hidden beneath the fear.