As far as turning 40. Well, what the hell ever.
We've now reached our one year anniversary of our failed placement with Baby A. Oh screw it, we named him Axton. I loved that name and now we can't use it. At this time last year we had met D and were waiting for him to arrive. Enduring another failed placement in March and no movement in the pool in April has made me completely shut down. More than once I've brought up dropping out and giving up on having another baby. S isn't ready to do that, so we wait and dread the next phone call. I'm currently existing in this really weird place of cursing the end of the day when we haven't gotten a phone call and fatalistically thinking it's never going to happen. We are supposed to be nesting and getting everything ready for the day that the magical phone call comes, but I can't bring myself to bother. The attic I said I was going to organize is just as bad or worse as it was in February. Sure, we have all the stuff for baby, but all that stuff needs to be washed and organized after being stored in bins for so long. Nope. Not doing it. Don't care.