Trying to make lemonade

"Hmm, I'm pretty sure I can figure out some way to get those butterflies down here and into my mouth if I just think hard enough about it!"

For the last few weeks I've been thinking: "If you can't write anything nice, then don't write anything at all." I thought back to vet school and how when I made a concerted effort to look on the bright side of things (I only have 1 hour of homework left!) as opposed to always seeing the dark and gloomy side of things (I have a whole other hour of homework left...) it actually made me feel more positive and upbeat. I changed my attitude and my mood changed with it. So I thought to myself that I should try that now. Instead, I have realized that if I'm only allowed to write about cheerful, pleasant, or optimistic things, that I have nothing to say.

I won't be so melodramatic as to say "Life couldn't be any worse", trust me, it could always get worse. In fact, I'm pretty sure life is trying to prove this theory to me right now by piling on one bad thing after another. Haley is gone. My vacation was ruined by a kidney stone (I know this shouldn't even rank in the list, but I really needed that vacation and having it stolen away did some strange mental damage.) My Grandma McMillan's ovarian cancer is back. I'm not ovulating and apparently haven't been, even in spite of the last two months on Clomid. I feel like life is throwing lemons at me as fast as it possibly can, and all that I'm coming to learn from it is that my lemonade making skills are definitely sub-par.

Currently I feel like I am drowning in despair and that I desperately need something GOOD to happen in life again. It seems like by the laws of karma that we should be due for some good, even if it's just something teeny tiny. But more bad just keeps showing up. So currently I am distracting myself by fundraising for the first annual Congenital Heart Disease Walkathon - in honor of our Haley-Bug. It's October 24th in Hilliard, Ohio, and I'm already planning our team t-shirts. We'd love to have you join us. :) But my heart aches at the thought that by that time our little Bug would have been a year and 1.5 months old, and that she probably would've been able to toddle around at the Walkathon with us. Some days I still just really can't believe this is real, I think to myself "This just can't be permanent." I find myself thinking I will see her soon, because I cannot fathom living in a world without her for the rest of my life.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not crying my way through breakfast, lunch, and dinner, crying in my sleep, crying while I walk, and crying while I read anymore. Who knew you could cry while you did surgery? Or while you drive? You can. It's not easy, but you can. And what good would it have done to just sit around and cry? I wasn't going to let those tears win. And sure, I still cry here and there, but there hasn't been anymore impressive displays of crying for hours straight. So I'll take that as a sign of improvement (or at least deficient tear production), and I will keep working at improving. Here's to another month of acupuncture, increased Clomid doses, blood draws on cycle day 21ish, and ovulation prediction kits. Maybe this month we'll get lucky...