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The new Jewish year began with Rosh Hashanah two weeks ago. Our lives have not gotten any less hectic but we're learning to manage. Or rather, we're learning our breaking points and trying to manage steering clear of them. 

We're still the primary caretakers of an adult with special needs who moved into our home. I'm working diligently to get this person out of our home and into a space of their own. Due to several factors there are limitations to the options, government programs, and opportunities available for this person. Nevertheless we are motivated to find a right fit as soon as possible. Their presence in our home is not good for our marriage, our family, my sanity, or our kids. So, working on it. 

People say things like, "Wow. You're so incredible for taking this on; so amazing for taking care of this person." No. It's not amazing. It's incredibly shitty that this was dumped on us. The only thing that I did was not drop them off at a homeless shelter when this happened. It's so incredibly unfair and so avoidable that this person ended up homeless and helpless because their parents didn't take care of basic things when they could have during their lifetime. 

It feels trite to sum up the Jewish holidays in a few sentences while there's so much stress going around in the foreground, but they did happen and it was nice enough. The kids are now almost-4 and 16 months old. They had adorable outfits, very much enjoyed the holiday meals, and were in groups at shul, though the older one didn't like the change of scenery from the regular room which they switched up to accommodate the bigger group. I was thinking back to Yom Kippur last year where the baby, at only 4 months old, was so cranky and fussy the whole day and ended up in the ER that night because of RSV. This year was thankfully much better, though fasting while taking care of little kids is no joke. 

The conversation about transferring the last embryo continues. I'm a few months away from turning 40. That in itself is only one reason I feel pressure to move forward. I don't want to keep the embryo on ice forever, and I'm not interested in waiting years before deciding. If it doesn't stick then we're done, and I can move on either way. I will be sad but I don't think I'll be devastated enough to change my mind about doing more IVF cycles. The problem is that getting to the point of a transfer means I need to psych myself up (after convincing my husband that it's a good idea) and then putting ourselves in a situation where it may not succeed. If we transfer we need to be ready for either outcome. He's not ready for another. If the roles were reversed I wouldn't want him to try to convince me. I feel like as long as there's an embryo available we should transfer it; we worked way too hard and sacrificed way too much to not transfer it. I can understand both sides of the argument, and I worry that one of us will end up permanently resentful if we don't get on the same page soon. At least the conversation continues.