Every time "Restricted Caller ID" shows up on my phone it gets the adrenalin pumping because I know it's the agency. One of these days instead of hanging up the phone feeling defeated by our struggle with the gray area, I hope the news is that we've been matched. A nice, clear-cut match.
It's ironic to read the posts I wrote about the first call and the second call. I'm definitely in a funk as we head into yet another holiday season sans baby. In fact, that's been the topic of conversation the past few days as S has admitted he's bummed about facing another season. Despite the logic which leads us down the "it won't be until at least next spring" path, we're both sick of the wait and have been secretly hoping that something would happen sooner. I can't even complain about the wait to anyone, well, except for here. All I ever hear, is "It'll happen before you know it" or "Enjoy the time you have together". Of course these statements come from people who are fertile.