Shock

I spent so much time worrying over our appointment today that now that it's over, and all is well, and everything looks wonderful, and there's a yolk sac and even a faint faint heartbeat (whaaaaat?), I now am unable to process how I feel.

Relief, certainly. Also, shock that this process actually seems to have worked. Also, anxiety over logistics.

When I am stressed I typically turn my mind immediately to logistics.

Right now, I am sitting in a ball on the sofa, numb.

Moments of excitement burst through, but they are too much to process, so when I feel them, I shut down again.

"I need to crate myself," I told L. Who, incidentally, started to cry at the end of the appointment.

"I know that," he said. "You know why?"

"Because you've lived with me for twenty years?" I guessed.

Probably.

Holy crap, Succotash.

In between all this storm of unimaginable emotion, I have time to wonder who you are. What kind of person might you be, stewing in there. Tenacious, in that you didn't let being graded only b/c quality stop you. I admire that. I like to think that you, like me, don't like being told the odds on things. That you might be the kind of person who says, who are you, to grade me, and think that means anything? You don't know. Just you wait and see.