We are going to a party tonight… a party partially hosted by Den (since he was the baseball team’s coach and is in charge of the money). It’s with the group of Den’s friends. I am very not excited about it. Not only is it a party for everyone to watch the football game(s?) on the bigscreen TV (gag me), but it’s with the group of friends who constantly feeds us useless comments like, “You’ll never get pregnant if you keep thinking about it! Go on vacation! It worked for us!” And right now if I heard something like that I am perfectly liable to fly right off the handle. I’m feeling fine in general. But I am SICK and TIRED of these particular friends’ comments. I’ve just really been avoiding all of them, to be perfectly honest. I used to look forward to parties – any kind of party – just so I could get out of the house, get prettied up. Now I have half an hour before we go and I still haven’t gotten my ass out of bed, and I am seriously considering asking Den to just leave me at home. I should probably go though. If I stay home I’ll end up in bed all day, again.

On the better side of friends, family and fun – I chatted with my dad in an IM for a while yesterday, as we do frequently. This time, though, I mentioned about my fears of endometriosis, a possible diagnostic surgery, the medications, the disappointment. I never go too in-depth with my dad, because I know the whole subject of procreation makes him uncomfortable… I am his little girl, after all. His position has always been to slow down, enjoy life, don’t worry about what you don’t have. He took many, many years to come to grips with the fact that I have depression, and that it is a medical condition. I expected our journey with infertility to have the same reaction from him.

But instead, after telling him about this and that, he says to me, “I do hope things work out for you two soon…this is all driving me over the edge.” And that just really hit me in the heart. To know that my daddy is upset for me, that he’s pulling for me and that he understands that this is hard for us… wow, what a wonderful thing.

I have always been a daddy’s girl. Even when I was a teenager, when I was supposed to be rebelling against my parents, I would think to myself, If I have kids, I want to parent like he does. Somehow he always managed to straddle the line between both being our friend and still setting absolute boundaries for us. We knew that as long as we never broke any of the cardinal rules that he’d be our ally no matter what. (But we also knew if we did break any of those major rules – smoking, drugs, sneaking out, etc – that we would lose that trust forever. And neither me nor my brother ever crossed those lines.)

So yeah. That was just really so great to hear.