Anne, again.

I'm feeling like Anne of Green Gables again.  I've always had a dreamy, expectant disposition.  And of course, I was disappointed a lot as a result of that disposition.  My first boss told me to lower those expectations and I, magically wouldn't experience the sad let-down.  Well, you can't change so easily.  Another thing I've always done a lot is cry.  Cry, cry, cry.  I was reading the archives of my previous blog and I noted somewhere that I went several months one year without ever crying.  I've cried more in the last three years than in the previous 10, I'm pretty sure.

Today my high expectations betrayed me and I was on the verge of crying but somehow, I didn't.  Go figure.

I feel really sorry that several ladies are going through terrible disappointment right now.  I was thinking about sweet Lauren not being able to bring home a child she would love totally and parent responsibly.  What angers me about our society is that government has effectively disincentivized (I know that's not a word) single mothers from adopting their children out to people that are best able to love them.  Our welfare system doles out more money for more kids and funds thousands if not hundreds of thousands of government workers to monitor children known to be in dangerous situations.  I think it's a disgrace of government waste.

I'm about reaching the end of my diagnostic testing.  I called the big, fancy hospital to schedule the HSG and hysterosonogram but they wanted me to wait until my period starts.  It's a fun thought; if I'm on schedule it should happen on Saturday or Sunday.  The tech also said those are partly redundant procedures and she asked me why I was having this done.  Um, suspected endometriosis.  No, it's infertility dang it.  I hate that insurance companies effectively force this song and dance routine.  The tech said they'd do the HSG first and if the doctor wanted to do the sonogram later then they'd do it.  Sounds prudent to me.