It got to me

Well two nights ago I had an emotional breakdown. I was ready to quit, to throw in the towel, get our money back and give up even though I know that we are suppose to be doing this. Doubts have a very powerful way of making you forget your faith and hope. The breakdown was real, hard, painful, long, and difficult to overcome. It also was very much fueled by my wacky hormones. I've told my husband so many, many times how much I hate fertility drugs because I don't feel like me when I'm taking them. I feel like...well, a monster.

Two nights ago I was suppose to take my fertility injection at 10pm, but I was feeling so sick and depressed that I curled up in a ball on my bed, in the dark and just stared at nothing. I couldn't mentally, emotionally, or physically make myself get up and do the shot. I said some things to my husband that were probably very mean and unfair, which obviously led him to distancing himself a little. Which is actually the best thing for him to do when I'm feeling like that, he has learned well. So after some time and some texting back and forth in separate rooms...again, that can be a safer option than being in the same room and talking face to face when my emotions are so strong. We came together. My husband let me cry a lot, talk a lot more and then he got up, loaded the medicine in the syringe, handed it to me, and told me how much he loved me as I gave myself the shot.

The next day, I was sick all day. Could hardly get out of bed and so my husband stepped up to the plate and hit a homer, he took such good care of me all day. He's a winner when I'm being a loser and so things work out just fine...as long as we aren't both being losers at the same time. So thankful for him and for his love, forgiveness, patience, and kindness. I know I'm describing him to be flawless, he's not, and I'm glad he's not...but he is absolutely trying the best he can and that's all I could ever want.