The FedEx man came today. He brought a box with ice packs . . . and drugs. $425 worth of fertility drugs. Half are in my fridge now, waiting for my new cycle. It makes it a little more real, ya know?
I keep dreaming I'm pregnant. When I mention that, people are usually like, but isn't that good? Sure. Until I wake up. . . and am no longer pregnant. *sigh*
I caught myself thinking, "What if this doesn't work the first cycle? Will be in the middle of our vacation when it's time to be heading back and forth to Dallas again?" I had to stop and force myself to stop thinking about it. What's the point of going through all this if I can't hope it will work? Easier said than done.
On a side note, they've discovered a spot of cancer on my grandfather's brain so now not only will he be doing chemo for the spots he still has on his lungs that won't go away, but he'll add radiation for the spot on his brain. Last time I saw him, he had lost so much weight that his dentures looked too big for his face. My aunt says when she walked in to their house a couple weeks ago, she thought, "Well, there's Dad's shadow, but where is Dad?" I'm trying to brace myself. It's not easy.
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