I hate being a crier.

Yep. I'm that girl. I get angry - I cry. I get upset at the slightest thing - I cry. I see someone get hurt and I'm nervous - I laugh.

Okay, that last one's a bit off the crier theme but still...

It drives me nuts. I hate it. HATE IT! I wish I had better control over my tear ducts when things happen and an emotional reaction is triggered. But no matter what I do, I just can't stop them from flowing when I get even the smallest tidbit of bad news.

Lord knows I should be used to bad news by now. The whole infertility roller coaster prepares you for that. But it's the unexpected twists and turns in that roller coaster's track that really catch you off guard. Especially when you're expecting a nice smooth ride.

Well, at least trouble free, I'd say. This is the point in the whole conception timeline that things usually go okay. The drugs have done what they're supposed to do, and we're just supposed to be days away from the happy insemination.

Guess I should know better than to just expect everything to be okay. 'Cause today, it wasn't. And when I got the phone call, it took every fiber of my being to not break down in tears before I'd even hung up the phone.

I won't go into all the sordid and technical details, but suffice it to say that the progress that's supposed to have been made thus far has not, so we're waiting a bit more to see if the situation changes. Which throws me into a tailspin, while the clinic doesn't seem too concerned about the whole thing.

I suppose there should be some reassurance in that, and yet...here I am. Eyes slightly puffy, 'cause as soon as I got in the car with Hubs at the GO station, the damn finally broke. It's why I knew I couldn't call him when I got the news. I had a hard enough time keeping it together all by myself....just hearing his voice and having to tell him would have shattered the very peace I'd worked so hard to achieve.

Fortunately I managed to keep my dialing fingers occupied until the magic hour of 4:30 arrived and I could flee the office. I've cried there all too often and figured it would be nice to try to go two whole weeks without a meltdown witnessed by all and sundry who have the misfortune of working where I do.

Sigh. How I hate the public meltdowns. Everyone looks at you with the concerned eyes, that 'is everything okay' look. How I despise that look. I appreciate the sentiment, don't get me wrong - it's great to know that people actually care - but at the same time each person that asks rips the scab off the wound anew. And that can leave one hell of a scar, ya know?

So here's hoping that tomorrow I get some good news, things get back on track, and I don't run the risk of spoiling my two week no crying streak. I'll take my little victories where I can find them.

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?