Greetings!

Greetings friends, from an absentee blogger who is STOKED to have 11 days off work!! This time tomorrow I'll be on the west coast for a week of relaxation, no thinking, and some catch up time with my dear friend Sarah!  My goal is to not obsess about sex, conception, (there's that oxford comma TAYLOR!) and babies for the whole of my trip, aside from the portion where I fully catch Sarah up on the goings on of my lady business.


In order to do this, I must update you on my situation prior to leaving for the big city of LA. I was scheduled to see my OBGYN last Thursday to follow up on my not-so-happy-yet-somehow-relieving diagnosis of PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome). We were hoping to be able to look into treatment options and figure out where we are going from here. Unfortunately, The Lord said, "let there be ice and snow," and the entire city of Atlanta became gridlocked for a million hours and I couldn't get through. Appointment canceled. Unfortunately, due to my work schedule, and fortunately, due to my rockin' vacation schedule, I cannot follow up until February 27th. So we're playing the ever so familiar waiting game!


In the meantime, my body has decided to engage me in a crazy little dance of hormones with delightful symptoms that could either indicate a menstrual cycle or a baby. AWESOME. I'll keep them to myself because some of them are inappropriate for even me to talk about on the world wide web, and because I really, truly DO NOT think I'm with child and I don't want anyone to try to talk me into thinking I'm pregnant, either. Hope is a dangerous thing when you're in a situation like mine. The emotional crazy woman brain says, "OMG HANNAH! I think we're making a baby this time even though your symptoms are the same as every other time you've had a menstrual cycle!" and nursey brain says, "Felicia, you're going to have to do better. We both know you aren't bearing a seed in there and you're just going to make yourself cry. Get it together." I don't know what's going on, but I wish I'd either get a visit from Aunt Flo or feel something kick me from the inside so I'd know. I'd like to point out, though, if I catch the clown who apparently used my breasts as punching bags when I wasn't paying attention, I will kill you. This has got to go.


So that's it, loves. We know nothing new other than I'm going on vacation and will not be conceiving (unless it's immaculate, which could happen because I do not doubt the power of the Almighty God) while I'm gone. Keep praying for us, I feel them working because I've got a peace that can't be explained.


XOXO,
Hannah