Well, I finally caught it. That cold that's been going around for the last three weeks. The kids all had it, then all my
coworkers had it. I was feeling fine and thanking my lucky stars that I hadn't gotten it, when my husband came down with it the day before Thanksgiving. I knew then it was only a matter of time. It's not too bad as of yet. Sore throat, sniffles, and slight fever. I think that's why I've been so tired. Hopefully it won't turn into anything too bad. I'm glad to be getting it out of my system now, before the Big Scary Surgery. Only 12 days to go. Twelve days before they stick a camera in through my belly button and cut all the nerves inside my lower abdomen. I'm not freaked out by this. Not at all. No, really, I'm not. If I keep repeating this over and over to myself, it will be true!(Right?)
P.S. I called my therapist yesterday, all teary eyed and freaked out about the "funk" I was in on Wednesday. I was afraid that me feeling that way meant I wasn't ready to move on to adoption. That I still had serious infertility issues to work through before we adopted a child. She reassured me that the feelings I was having were completely normal for someone who has been through as much as I have in the last four years. It's natural to grieve over the inability to become pregnant. It's normal to feel sad and bitter, and neither of these feelings will affect our choice to adopt. After all, Joe and I talked about adoption ten years ago, long before we decided to start trying. It has always been something close to both of our hearts. So it is perfectly fine for us to move on with the adoption process and grieve our loss at the same time. I think I knew this all along, but it felt good too have those feelings validated, especially by a mental health professional!