Nine days left. All packed up (for the most part). Ready to go. I am more nervous for the logistics of the move than for the move itself. Driving the truck, fitting everything in, not breaking shit. That kind of stuff. And I am starting to emotionally detach a little. Makes it easier. Tired of talking to people and saying goodbye. This is my 22nd move in my life...although to be fair about half of my moves were local and not 1000 miles. But the other half were all long distance, sometimes overseas. So I'm pretty used to it...but it's still hard.

And the harder part of it is that I really thought we'd be pregnant in the first year of trying. And we won't be. In fact, we have no clear idea of where we are on our road to parenthood. We may be trying IVF in November. New RE may suggest a different path and we won't know that path for a few months. It's just a giant question mark. I don't like it one bit. I like plans. I've lived my life on plans...almost finished a doctoral program on plans. They keep me motivated with an end goal. I am not even totally sure what our end goal is now.