Houston, we have a problem

To add my own immediate reaction, I give fair warning to all of you :

The next person who tells me a story about a friend of yours who knows a couple who had so much trouble and just did "x" and wham they had kids, I'm going to reach down your throat and pull your fucking intestines out. I know you mean well, and I thank you for your concern, but that story isn't supposed to make us feel better, it's supposed to make you feel better about what's happening to us. It might give you hope, but we've exhausted our supply. Save us the torture of having to smile and pretend that your story, unlike all of the countless others we have heard, actually made us feel better, while inside we're mourning the slow deaths of our hearts.

There's nothing to be pleased about at this point, save perhaps we got this news of not-pregnant today and not on Christmas day, which was going to be the case if the current now-defunct cycle had continued. How's that for a silver lining. The next thing to concentrate on is making sure Wanda is healthy, and I suppose you can watch this space for news on that front when it's available.

Meanwhile, adoption has never looked better.