I'm an emotional wreck. It's the holidays. It's the no baby. It's the always being tired from the hormones and the waiting and the hoping.

I talked to J last night. He made me cry. I didn't want to talk about it, I didn't want to give him updates and tell him about the second failed IVF attempt. I didn't want to tell him how I was feeling, but he pushed. And I cried.

I told him I didn't want him to hear my cry. He told me to go ahead and cry. And so I did. I filled him in on how I was feeling. And the emotional roller coaster I've been riding.

And he was great. He apologized for not keeping on top of it, for not checking in on me more often. I should have called him out on all of this, what's going on with him, what's going on with us. But I didn't. Because in the end, it just felt good to hear someone be that concerned about me. It felt right, even though it's not.

We talked for about an hour. He kept me up way too late, but it was worth it.