So it’s been a week since everything went to shit. I wrote a post a few days ago recounting the events of the day that I got the phone call and it was utterly depressing. I had to stop half way because it was dinner time and, frankly, it was bumming me out.

The 10th of August was a bad day. A “horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day”. I cried and raged and talked and slept…. And then it was over.

The truth is, I could have crumbled. I could have. I would have if I hadn’t reached out and and if everyone hadn’t rallied around us. But my village (yourselves included) went a long way to lift me up and made it very difficult to break down.

So honestly, by the 11th all was good. And this month has still been fantastic. On Friday we went on a booze cruise in Boston to see the band Bad Fish (who I knew nothing about). The entire night was a comedy of errors and so much fun. We took the T in and realized it was an 18 minute walk to the boat and we had 20 minutes before it left and I was in heels. I ended up taking my shoes off and we made it with minutes to spare. The cruise itself was fun. 3 hours on the water and it was too hot near the band so we all just stayed on top. I don’t even know what the band looked like. The best part was at the end they were playing my favourite song (Don’t stop believing by Journey) and as the guitar riff was going at the end an airplane flew really low and slow over the boat and everyone lost their minds. You couldn’t plan that perfect timing. Going back we had to walk as well and by this time my feet were screaming. Eventually N had to give me his socks and we hopped onto the last train. The drunkest guy in the world was sitting/passed out across from me and another young lady and we both watched in terrified anticipation while he rocked back and forth almost puking all over himself and just spitting everywhere. What a lovely first time on the midnight train it was.

The drive home was supposed to be without incident but as we pulled up to the house there was a sneaky cop behind us. Apparently N’s licence was expired and he had no idea. Luckily he just got a warning.

Finally, we walked in the house at 2am and I had to wash my feet. Being the smart lady I am I filled up the bathroom sink and dunked my foot in it. The sink, however, said “Oh heeell no!” and my foot went right though, dumping water everywhere. What fun we had, unpacking the vanity and wiping up water together at 2:30 in the morning.

We spent the rest of the weekend doing nothing on Saturday to doing everything on Sunday. Deep cleaning the house and replacing the sink.

So the week has been going pretty well too and it got a little better yesterday when I pierced my nose again for the 4th time in my life.

I was a serial piercer and during the course of last year I removed most of my piercings. Two of which were specifically related to TTC. My acupuncturist said that they were messing with my chi. Now, I’ve grown used to not having anymore piercings but I’ve always been sad about the nose ring so it was kismet that N’s cousin’s new boyfriend, who we met on the cruise, did piercings! So yesterday I bit the bullet and I’m so so happy. My  nose was definitely meant to have a ring of some sort in it :). And it was kind of like my little “fuck you” to infertility and TTC and claiming back a bit of my life that this journey has invariably taken from me.

So you see, my friends, I have not had time to feel sorry for myself. I will admit, though, that part of me is a little untrusting of how okay I am. Is there a meltdown lurking in the corners? Will N get no help at this urologist appointment tomorrow? Will we get truly bad news at our follow-up appointment next week? Only time will tell.

Until then, I have 3 more days as a 34 year old and I am going to do tear it apart.

Here’s to me! Here’s to my village! Here’s to us!

And here’s a picture of the sink I broke.