I remember in college how I would send my friends text messages across the room or across the house for the sake of absurdity — “Is my broomball stick in the garage?!” or “Bring me a banana!!” or just “Hi.” It was a dumb game that we played because we were discovering the wonder of carrying the entire internet in our pockets all the time and being able to harass each other as a free fringe benefit of having a cell plan. With great power comes great irresponsibility; something like that. Inter-house messaging made me grin every time.
It didn’t this morning.
I was on the phone with a Microsoft cloud support representative talking about hiding on-premises public folders from a cloud global address list when my phone started to chirp. It was my beloved texting from the bathroom. I promptly hung up on Microsoft. I’ve gotten a couple of incredibly confused emails from Microsoft support in the past few minutes wishing me well and hoping that everything is okay. It will be. I’m just not sure if it is right now; neither of us are.
Bleeding, even lots of it, is normal for an IVF pregnancy, I’m told. We have some very last-second appointments scheduled for tomorrow to see if that’s true for us or if a little family on the other side of the globe has to wait a few more weeks than planned for their little squish to come home.
Not knowing good news is worse than knowing bad news, I think. We are sincerely hoping that today will just be another day; that a doctor will look at some results and tell us it’s fine, just some possible thing that can happen when xyz conditions are met but blah blah blah — you’re fine. We know everything will be if that isn’t the news we get, and are prepared/ing.
But we wouldn’t at all mind if you’d grant us a simple request:
Say a little prayer.