I’m still exhausted. I still feel like I’m getting sick. I did nothing all weekend, actually felt fine yesterday, and today I’ve been sneezing, my throat hurts, and I feel generally bleh.
But mentally? Much better.
I think Cristy had a point about the hormone crash (see comments). At least, that’s what I’m telling myself this week.
I’m still looking into therapy. I’ve narrowed down the insurance-company-generated list of possibilities to three, and I’ve begun to compile a list of questions I’d like to ask each of them before scheduling an appointment.
Still haven’t picked up the phone.
Strangely, I think being back at work today helped. And I say “strangely” because my first appointment of the day was with a four-month-old. The first time I saw her, she was only a month old, fussy, cocaine-addicted, incapable of calming without the heroics of her foster mother. Today, she was happy, smiley, and calmed herself quickly by sucking on her little fingers, even after tummy time, which she hates. She is one of the many reasons I’m still trying to convince Hubby that foster-adoption is a good option to grow our family.
Most of my visits today were positive ones, and I was busy all day, which helps. I even came home and cackled like a madwoman at one of Hubby’s snarky sports shows–something about a Super Bowl quarterback’s own dad calling him “dull.”
As always, it’s a work in progress.
Our embryos have been screened (according to the massive bill that has been charged to one of our credit cards), and we’ll find out the results on Wednesday. I’m still terrified not a single one of them will be genetically “normal,” which is a completely unfounded fear. At some point, when I was half-naked but pre-stirrups and Hubby had his nose in a magazine while we waited for one of many ultrasounds in the past couple of months, I said something like “I just hope our sperm and eggs like each other.” Clearly, four pairs of them did. I should be looking at this in a positive light.
If only it were that easy. As I said, work in progress.
Oh, and I’m calling it. PHOIs won (barely). But I still like Cryo Kids and the Liquid Nitrogeneration. I’ll try to refer to our frozen embryos as PHOIs the majority of the time, but I’m going to throw in the other names just to mix it up. Because I can.