It was never supposed to happen like this.
Today as my state and country observes a National Day of Mourning for the victims of the fires three weeks ago, I find myself launching head-long into a different kind of grief.
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It was never supposed to happen like this.
Today as my state and country observes a National Day of Mourning for the victims of the fires three weeks ago, I find myself launching head-long into a different kind of grief.
With the arrival of every new calendar year comes that gaping sense of hope and possibilities, yet when you are in the midst of an infertility situation that no one (except an ever loving partner) see any chance of success, optimism is normally measured out in small doses.
Or should that read; I visited Laparoscopy and all I got was this lousy infection? It is over a week since my lap. Even now I am not even sure if I actually had the suggested d&c. Lifeslurper has just returned from her 87th kazillionth doctors appointment in recent months. I am talking general practitioner here, the type of doctor you go see about everyday stuff, as opposed to the fertility specialist you travel millions of miles and pay zillions of dollars to see about how to not make a baby. |
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