I feel totally cried out.   Yet, when I talk to someone or see something that reminds me of “it” I somehow find some stored tears.  I don’t know where they’re coming from.

Our friends have been a great support through this.   Lydia came over, washed our laundry, cleaned the house, and took care of Graem all day while Margot and me talked and caught up on sleep.

Lydia’s mother is the pastor at the local Methodist Church - St. Paul’s and she offered to come out and do a little “service” tomorrow and bury our baby under the magnolia tree.   I’m not sure how nuts it is, to be honest, but I can’t imagine just flushing it down the toilet or throwing the Chinese container into the trash.

Margot’s already dug the whole under the tree and it’s actually right next to Graem’s swing.

Of course, now, the hard part is going to be moving forward and trying to figure out where we go from here.   I do have hope that a future cycle will result in a “take home baby”.   I just resent the fact that with each step - nothing will ever feel like a victory.   For example, pregnancy tests, ultrasounds, milestones …   I’ll always be waiting for the big gush or something bad to happen.

We talked this morning to the nurse about doing Genetic Screening on the embryos when we do IVF (assuming our last IUI doesn’t work).    At least then we’d know that we would have put the most healthy embryos back and it’d give them all more a fighting chance.    We’ll see.

I hope each day gets better and I’m eventually able to put all of this behind us - but I’m not sure I’d want to forget it.