I'm not sure what's happening, but the past four days have been pretty emotional. I can't shake this funk. I want to be excited about meeting with the lawyer this week, but I can't help but think about how much disappointment I've been through.
Four years ago this week, I had my first doctor appointment, was told there would be a problem trying to get pregnant but that with medication and fertility cycles, it should all work. The next day, with no one in my family knowing that I was about to embark on this path, let alone the news I had just heard, I drove to Syracuse to meet my great-nephew when he was hours old.
I cried all the way there and all the way home. And faked it really well while I was a the hospital. My friends told me not to go, but I couldn't not experience part of his first day with him. It never occurred to me that that was an option.
I've thought about that a lot the past few days, all the while eating everything in sight. Which really only makes me crankier. Each night, I'm hopeful that the next day will snap me out of things, that I'll be back to my healthy self, that I'll be excited, that I'll be positive.
Last week, I was excited about having two new options -- domestic and Haiti. This week, I'm just tired. Four years tired.
Tomorrow, hopefully, will snap me out of things.