It’s starting to sink in that I might actually be pregnant by the end of this year. Crazy.
And also tremendously anxiety-inducing.
Hubby is no closer to having a job today than he was four years ago. Even though he’s been applying like crazy, he’s only had one interview and no offers. Not even outside his beloved academia. If I do get pregnant, he has to get a job. Somewhere. Anywhere.
I still haven’t made up my mind about whether or not to do PGD. Hubby now says he’s all for it, despite the extra expense. I want to have confidence that the two of us could produce a whole bunch of healthy embryos, but I’ve seen too many stories that didn’t go that way.
I talked to my sister, and she forgave me in advance for not traveling for Christmas. Or Thanksgiving. But I still haven’t talked to my dad about it. There’s no way either of them can come to us for the holidays because of work. I’m glad I got to see both of them and my niece this summer, but who knows when the next time will be?
And all of this must be getting to me because I hardly slept last night. I kept waking up, partly because I was too hot, but I couldn’t immediately get back to sleep, like I normally do. And I was having strange dreams. One, right before I woke up in the morning, that I was getting mugged. Not sure where that came from. (Maybe all the money we’ll be forking over in just a few weeks?)
I’ve had a long day at work, and I hope I can sleep well tonight and make it through tomorrow without crashing. I’ll worry about the rest of it later.