At the bottom of the fourth, it’s a strike.

Lord, it must be a Monday if I’m resorting to sports analogies for a title.  What I know about sports ball could fill a thimble, really!

So, kids, if you’re following along at home, I don’t have to wonder any longer… Cycle 3 has begun and Aunt Flo is a BITCH.  I’ll be calling today to make the appointment for the HSG and it’ll take place late this week or early next.  I’m nervous about it.  But I feel a complete picture (or as much of one as I can get) of my innards is a good thing for moving forward.

Partner and I will also begin couples counseling this week.  We’re okay, we just want to be sure we remain okay through this process.  It’s heavy shit and packed with emotional tolls we can’t even name yet.  First issue up on the pitch… WHY is Partner dragging his feet to follow the doctor’s instructions and get the next SA done!?

I attended a party this past Friday, my best friend is moving away. It’s just a six hour drive, but it feels like Egypt at this point.  I already have arrangements to visit in October, but that’s so far away.  She’s one of my few confidants in this journey and I’ll miss her terribly.  We don’t SEE each other often really, so in that it won’t change much… but the knowledge that I can’t just pop over to say hello is weighing heavily.  All three of my closest friends were at this party so I brought the other two into the loop and let them know we are trying, with help, to get pregnant.  They don’t know as much as Best Friend, but it was nice to have hugs and well wishes.

The way I figure it, I’ll know by Christmas what is what and if the game will be won, or if we have to forfeit, turn in our running shoes and find a new hobby. It’s only August though. And a lot of steps between here and there.  A lot of talking to do.

 

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