The Days Before Transfer

It wasn't until after I had closed the chapter with my first transfer, that I realized just how incredibly stressed out I was leading up to it.

I mean, I knew I was busy, angry, sad, overwhelmed, anxious, nervous, excited, and stressed, obviously, but I guess I never really stopped to think I might be in over my head.

I was trying to step in as a therapist and a savior to my parents.
Our cat was not eating properly after months of rehabilitation.
Our dog's ear was swelled beyond comprehension.
Our other dog had a weird sty and yeasty skin problems.
Mark's work was at a lull.
My work was overwhelming.
Our credit card debt was still through the roof.
My genetic claim was still pending, after months of checking and begging and pleading and submitting more and more rounds of paperwork.

And all of this caused me so much friggin' stress!

And as hard as it was at the time, I decided to step away.
Focus on the stuff I could improve within our home and move forward with less of a crowd.

I love my parents and my family to death, but I cannot take away their pain, I cannot fix them, and I sure as hell can't save relationships, marriages (other than my own), trust, faith....you name it.
I am not a miracle worker.

So I stepped away.
I stopped most communication and made no plans.

And I cried making that decision.

But it was probably one of the best, in the sea of stress, to take away.

Our pets?
Well...they are always a work in progress.
We tested new foods, new grooming techniques, and after many vet visits, settled into a not-quite-perfect-yet-better routine.

Work?
Well....you can't really stop that kind of stress. I mean, we signed up for it.
But again...with no major decisions on the line, I allowed myself to let my always tight-deadlines...slip a little.

No harm, no foul.

On Halloween, we paid off our credit card.
In full.

And on the same day, we were gut-punched with the finalization of our genetic testing claim.

Denied.
In full.

And to all this I said....OH. WELL.

I just let the fuck go of all of the things in my life that made me hesitate.
I let it all go.
Doing the bare minimum may have been a far cry from the go-getter I typically am, but whatever.
Seriously. Whatever.

It set me up with some amazing coping techniques that I was able to utilize over the course of the dreaded two-week wait as I waited for confirmation that I was, in fact, a mom.

And at this point, all of this.....stuff....that lead up to that voicemail, and that moment, was just that.
Stuff.
Pointless banter, frivolous worrying, endless annoyances.
Just stuff.

Stuff that got in the way of the real goal.
To finally become a mom.
And become a mom I shall.

Stay tuned for the details about our final transfer!
XO