I am a very even girl. I like all things even. When I eat candy or anything that involves pieces, I eat them in even numbers. Often, I count my steps - all must end in even numbers. Sometimes while counting, I will take an extra step or a giant step in order to get to an even number. I count ceiling tiles, lightbulbs, numerous different things on a daily basis. Most do not end in even numbers, but I can rig my counting to get around it. I will just count whatever I am counting 2 times or 4 times if I feel like it. It's insanity, I tell you. Which brings me to a very big problem for the next 365 days. Today I am 31.
Exactly one year ago today, I sat in the perinatologist's office awaiting the showing of my 10 weeks old baby's heartbeat. Note to self: Never schedule a sonogram on your birthday. Exactly one year ago today, I found out there was no longer a heartbeat. Exactly one year ago today, I swore I would be pregnant by Christmas. Exactly one year ago today, I never thought it would happen to me again. Exactly one year ago today, more of my heart was ripped away, causing me to forever change - to forever be a different person. And here I am, one year later, with empty arms.
Today I received a bit of even news. My progesterone is down to a 4. It's not the bright and shining news I would like for my birthday, but at least we are on the way to the 2 we need. Heck, I'll even accept a dreaded 1. Anything to get me closer to motherhood and counting children running around my house rather than lightbulbs.