It's been almost four weeks since the surgery. It's been a long four weeks. I can't believe I actually made it through--it certainly felt like the gray skies would take forever to clear. I am so impressed with the human spirit and its ability to keep moving.
I hit a wall in those four weeks, but my husband met me at the top of it and helped me climb over. He saved me. He really did. He doesn't want the attention for acting the way he thinks a good husband should act, but I am grateful for what he has done.
And I am starting to feel hopeful again. The sun is shining. We have our RE (for now, anway). We have an autoimmune appointment. We are trying the gluten-free diet. I have stared yoga again. My right pain is getting better. We're waiting for my period to show and then I can begin Lupron. The holding pattern has subsided and we are starting to really get somewhere. I feel energized.
I am grateful to have reached this point in the journey. We made it this far. We can do this. We can get there. We will be parents.
