counting down the days

The last few days are all just a big blur now. I worked late each day and stayed up late once I was home...just brain-dead and on the message boards and reading blogs.

Our Best Man, Truman, and his fiance Heather are coming over in about an hour for football (Seahawks are in the playoffs). I think the only football fan is Mr. C, but the rest of us will go along with it just to be social. The house is a bit of a wreck. It won't take long to get it into a presentable state, though.

The film festival is Wednesday and I am so looking forward to it being over. This week was a bit frantic, trying to get all of the films onto dvd format and trying to get all of the details squared away with all of the other work that needs to be done and preparation for the event itself and having things ready. So many details and so much to consider...I hope I am not forgetting anything important. In the past Travis and I always complimented each other so well in regard to getting everything accomplished and accounted for.
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I am counting down the days until I see Dr. B. And only 2 pills left in my pack. Will she let me continue for one more month of BCPs before TTC? Will she agree that February is a good month? I need to go and find my list of questions that I have for her so that I am prepared for the appointment. You would think that after a year that I would have the questions memorized, but I know that when I get into the office I will be anxious and will not be able to rely on my brain.

Will we have trouble getting pregnant?

Am I ready?

Mr. C is ready. I can tell. He told me last month (when that pack of pills, which was supposed to be the last, ran out) that he was trepidatious. But he also told me that he feels very strongly that everything will be ok. I wish I had his confidence, or whatever it is that makes him able to say to me "You will go off the pill. We will get pregnant. You will get the cerclage. We will have a baby." All so matter-of-fact, it is at once both infuriating and, somehow, reassuring. He was like that when he had the cancer, too. I'm not saying that he wasn't scared and sad, but once the diagnosis was made and the course of treatment was set, he got very peaceful about it all. And after the surgery he was very clear that it was gone. He went ahead with the radiation treatments, even though he was told that they were optional (there was a more than 90% chance that all of the cancer was gone and that the radiation wasn't necessary), because he felt that it would be silly not to take every precaution available. But he told me that he felt like the cancer was completely gone. He was as sure of the fact that the cancer was there when things started initially pointing in that direction. Doctors were running tests and looking at this and that and he said that he knew what it was--that he could "feel" it.

I don't know that I will ever feel ready. I didn't feel really ready before we got pregnant with William. It was one of those things that I had to take a leap of faith on. Then as soon as I felt the first twinges that I might be pregnant (long before the BFP) I knew with every little part of me that I was ready. It was all that I could think about...my little baby growing inside of me and how happy I was.

Now our house feels so quiet and empty most of the time. I remember having that feeling the summer before we got pregnant with William. We hadn't even decided to try yet and I still thought it would be another year or so away. This flicker of a thought kept coming across my mind that something was missing.