Today is H.'s birthday and as promised in my prescient conversation with Hope a few days ago, it also coincided with me starting to bleed. Indeed, the bleeding started at about 23:55 of the day before his birthday, just so that there was no single part of the day during which we could continue to hope.
This time I am inconsolable. I alternate between reading blogs of women who have endured far worse than I so far on this journey, and thinking "Thank G-d we haven't had to go through that, please G-d, we may never have to," and thinking "bloody hell, it took Tertia 3 IUIs, 3FETs and 6 IVFs before Kate and Adam arrived - I don't have time to do that, I'm too old, it will never work, we will never have children."
Today is a despair day. Poor H doesn't know what to do to comfort me as I'm not very open to being comforted. At least tonight we are home and I can watch America's next top model and eat some of the Easter chocolate and mope in a satisfactory way. And we've agreed that tomorrow I will bake a banana cake to make up for my misery somewhat spoiling the day today.
Tomorrow I will call to put myself on the list for the HSG. I'm ready to be really interventionist now. I want this baby so much.