So, those of you who remember, we’ve been trying for a baby. This month we had our second go, and we found out this morning that it’s not worked. My beloved isn’t pregnant. Truly, we found out it was unlikely yesterday, in the tail end of ‘our xmas’* but kinda clung to the slim, slim possibility that it might still’ve worked. But no. We’ve still got another go, but there’s this thing called the Two Week Wait, and it’s astonishing how when it’s over and it’s not worked, how utterly demoralising it is. How very, very sad you feel when it’s not worked.
Despite the glorious day we had yesterday** I’ve got up today and am now feeling a complete lack of motivation to do anything. I was a little vague on what I was going to do today, anyhow, because it’s ‘my boxing day’ and Kathryn’s at work. But now I’m lacking motivation to do anything.
* Being a healthcare worker, this year we celebrated Xmas on the 26th because I was at work on the 24th and the 25th.
** Prezzie opening (my best beloved got me some amazing music and some great book, and many, many other things because she’s way too kind; our families bought us thoughtful lovely gifts too, we are very lucky people), a really good xmas dinner that we prepped together, a non-awful Doctor who christmas special*** and a touching Call the Midwife xmas special followed by a card game (gift) and listening to more music.
*** Hardly fantastic, but watchable (although the end was tediously repetitive and there were some gaping plot holes).