As hopeful as I am for this cycle, and as excited as I want to be, I have to admit that I am frankly terrified that our embryo isn’t going to survive thaw and that we’ll have nothing to transfer. Every time I think about next week I get a huge knot of anxiety sitting on my chest, so I just have to push it off and think of something else. I’ll feel better after transfer. I think. But then there’s always something to hold my breath for, isn’t there.

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Today at work we had to have the vet euthanize one of the cats. It was his time to go, he was very sick and not getting better, but it’s still a loss of an animal whom we’ve cared for the last several years. It’s always hard. I wasn’t there at the vet’s office, but my coworker came back in tears.

But I didn’t cry. I rarely cry anymore – about anything. A lot of girls talk about being more sensitive to everything, and I do remember a phase when that was the case with me. But now it’s almost a numb feeling… but not really numb. It’s like… I’ve felt so my grief, such deep, cutting pain, that the little things don’t really register anymore.

I was thinking about it all day today and realized, it’s not entirely true. There was a point when I was talking to my coworker, watching her tears, that I could feel them stirring in me. But I shut it out instinctively. Because I realized I don’t want to start. Once I start crying, once I start letting that sadness creep in, it doesn’t stay just a little cry over a cat. Letting down those walls means that it all floods in and I cry for everything.

In a way it makes me feel kind of crappy, because I don’t react “normally” to things. I don’t have a reaction of shock to horrible things anymore. It doesn’t surprize me when pregnancies are lost. I feel very jaded.

I remember a time when I thought I knew it all. I thought if you followed the rules and took good care of yourself that nothing would go wrong. I can only shake my head sadly at that past me’s arrogance and judgements. I looked down my nose at things that I thought weren’t necessary. Who the hell am I, anyways? I really think hard about those doctors who have been there, who have seen the dead babies and devastated families, and start to understand why they are quick to jump to early induction and c-sections. Because it doesn’t always go the way you expect it to. It doesn’t always go the way it should. And none of us know why, or who, or when.

I think about that old me and I both envy and loathe her ignorance. How very easy it is to know you are right… and how very humbling it is to realize how little you really know, and how little you really matter in the grand scheme of things.

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Tomorrow morning is my lining check where they will hopefully tell me to start the progesterone. I am not anticipating any issues, but I’m still running through things in my head, making sure everything that needed to get done is done.