I've been in this funk, really, seriously quite depressed since the egg collection and fertilisation report. This weekend has been awful. I was so disappointed in myself, in the fertility team, in everything that didn't go as I had prayed that it would. I was comparing myself to others at the same part of this journey, wondering why I was chosen to have such a poor go at it, and why they seemed to have it all turn out perfectly.

I was getting sad, then angry, then sad again, at comments that I'm sure were meant to make me feel better, but just rubbed me the wrong way. I was scared too; scared of having to mentally prepare myself for a new cycle, scared of the wait that would come during that mandatory time off to recover, physically and emotionally. I was worried that financially, we wouldn't be able to have another go - something which everyone just assumes you'll do.

I felt love, so much love towards my husband. He has been so wonderful; even though I can tell that he doesn't understand that I've been hit by a massive blow. He has stayed positive, he has looked after me, he's done everything he possibly could have to help me heal.

So, yes. If you throw an emotion at me, I probably felt it over the past few days.

I woke up this morning feeling (dare I say it?) excited for the days ahead. My pain is a little better, although it still flares up if I move too fast or if I'm using the bathroom. Gravity=ouch. A good friend from online gave me some beautiful advice: just do things one step at a time. And so, I am. My focus is Monday. Tomorrow. Tomorrow we're going to transfer an embryo, something that we created. It may stick, it may not, but we're having a go. And isn't this what the goal has been all along? To give ourselves, and our potential baby, a chance? So, I am excited.

Excited, but also still a little scared. But I think that's okay.