6dp5dt

I can't believe I've made it this far. Thank goodness my mother finally pulled through for me and ended up successfully kept me occupied for the past 2 1/2 days. Until she got here, all I was really doing was obsessively thinking about the embyros inside of me- and I'm glad that I was able to get a break from that for at least a little while. And (surprise, surprise)- it is a bit like watching paint dry: thinking non-stop about the embryos has a way of making the clock move soooooooo much slower.

My mom retaught me how to crochet while she was here. Funny story: when I was about 7 (maybe?) she taught me how to crochet while we were on a long camping trip. I started making a blanket for my cabbage patch baby way back then. It never got finished. Now here I am, more than 20 years later, picking up where I left off, continuing on the blanket I meant to be for my doll... now hopefully for my own baby. Come Monday, I hope it doesn't go back in the bag of stuff left over from my childhood, waiting for yet another time.

Now that I'm getting closer to The Blood Test, I am having weird feelings about it. Don't get me wrong, I WANT to know. But part of me is really enjoying this sense of it being ok that a news story about babies comes on tv, and that I don't want to instantly change the channel. I am more ok than I ever have been before about the good ol' Facebook baby pics, u/s images, and PG news. Today there was a 2 year old in the waiting room at the RE's while I waited for my progesterone check. I was ok with that (but a little thankful that this was the first time that it had happened). For a while, I was really worried that the heart-wrenching feeling I always got about seeing babies or anything related to babies would never go away, even if circumstances changed, because I had felt it for so long. This period of being PUPO has proved to me that my wounds can heal, even if they leave behind scars. I'm just scared shitless that my wounds are going to be ripped open again on Monday. And then it will be GAME OVER- end of our chance at a biological child.