Because I am an Moron

So, the cramping pain situation hasn't gotten any better, except that now there is some spotting involved. Because what is some cramping without a little spotting thrown into the mix? I mean, I am already worried enough about the cramping. Let's make it a party!

My parents are visiting this week, so I haven't had a lot of time to myself. And in general I require a substantial amount of "down time," especially when I am stressed. I've also been keeping a full blown freak-out at bay, so I have been in one of those just-keep-my-head-down-and-keep-moving modes. But I knew enough to know that going with them to babysit my adorable niece and nephew today was not in my best interest. I love those kids to pieces, but sometimes it's like they're wearing flashing neon signs over their heads that say "I am the closest you'll ever get to a baby!"

I took the day off work, and the husband and I were going to go do something fun and relaxing, just the two of us. Except I woke up with more cramping, and I am overly tired and I think my hormones are out of whack, which was basically the infertile equivalent of a perfect storm. The husband and I couldn't decide what to do, mainly because I am a pitiful mess. So we decide I should just go get in the shower to get things rolling...and what should happen during my first few quiet moments to myself all week? Ah yes, there's the meltdown we've all been waiting for! It was a fall down on my knees while simultaneously shaking my fists at the sky and snotting all over myself type of morning.

Eventually I compose myself and we decide to indulge in three of our favorite things - good pizza, a used bookstore and a movie. Perfect! But then, in my belly full of pizza and bag 'o used books happiness, guess what movie I picked? Life as We Know It (see: title of this post). I honestly have no idea what I was thinking, but it was a good thing we opted for the matinee so that there were only two other people in the theater to listen to my audible sobbing. Seriously...MORON.

The good news is, my sister-in-law (who knows the gist of our fertility problems) sent my parents home with homemade peanut butter & chocolate chip cookies. So at least there's that.