I turned 31 around 3:25 this afternoon. I woke up in a terrible funk over it. I don't know why 31 sounded so much worse than 30 did. Although I should probably go back and see how horrible I thought 30 was going to be. And it wasn't all horrible.
I didn't get the two main birthday presents I wanted: to be pregnant and get published. But maybe we're a few steps closer to both.
We started year seven of trying to get pregnant, and round 3 of combo-cycle IUI. Those are both lucky numbers, right?
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