Better

Well, Friday was rough, but necessary. The timing was bad, we were both tired and edgy. We had a chance to talk more over the last few days. Now that he's clarified his feelings, I understand a little better. I know I'm not myself. That me is gone. I'm sorry for that, but it can't be helped. The things Jim is concerned about though, I can do something about.

He says I'm less affectionate. It's true. I can work on that. He says I'm "morose" a lot. His word, not mine, but also true. I do have more bad or unhappy days than I used to, but I don't know that I can do more than try and stay more positive. It's been a good weekend for getting stuff out in the open and talked about. We've never done that well unless we've had to. Neither of us are deep talkers. We talk about the important stuff when we have to. The rest of the time we both wear some pretty hi-tech rose-colored glasses. We know that.

We had drinks together last night, just us. That was nice. We also fooled around in the middle of the day for a reason other than to make a baby. I guess I've been a little too single-minded. Baby making sex is a lot less fun.

Everything's okay. We are going to talk to the doctor about just doing IVF. Our chances are much better that way. Neither of us want to go through this, but we both want another child, so we are willing to do what we have to do. Our next appointment with Dr. Baby Maker isn't until Friday, but I may try and get that moved up so we can get on with it.

When we woke up this morning, Jim told me he had a dream that we got a positive test and we laughed and hugged and talked about how we hoped our recent alcohol consumption wasn't going to do any harm. He's never said something like that before. Maybe it's a little foreshadowing?