And it begins . . .

The diagnostics have begun. Some more tomorrow.

I think that it's really quite an unlucky coincidence that each month when I'm faced with the reality of another *not this time,* it's at the very moment when my hormones leave me most ill-equipped to deal with such disappointment.

1 comment:

  1. I don't know how I found your blog, but I just read the whole darn thing. I think it was on a shoe post somewhere. I don't even know how to organize this comment, but girl: I am out here with you. On the roller coaster, on the "everything seems to be normal," on the confusion about drugs and bigger options, on the questions about adoption, on the dedicated space in ones brain that is pretty much always keeping track of the days, and on the fierce, fierce secreting of this part of my life. Also, I am with you on things like shoes. I really, really try to keep away from reading too much about the journey of others - it seems important to give myself the room to experience all of this without too much input or narrative from people I don't even know, but for some reason your simple outlet has moved me. I'll be reading along, wishing you your heart's dreams. I open myself up daily to the idea that this journey is necessary, that things are being learned that I can't even see, and that hope springs eternal.