My mom has always said that bad things come in three. I feel that in my soul this week.

Sunday I said goodbye to my old girl. She was over 14 years old and lived a really good life. Cancer came on fast. It was the right decision but I’m still sad.

Monday evening my Uncle Wayne passed after a long battle with cancer at 94 years old. He was a larger than life personality. He played a mean game of pinochle. More than anything else, he loved my Aunt Mary Jane and treated her with kindness and respect at all times.

Then earlier today the lab at my doctor’s office sent a report with number three. I am on day 41 of my female cycle. I took a pregnancy test that showed a very faint second line. Unfortunately, my blood test does not show the HCG levels raising properly, so no baby.

At 45 my chances of conceiving naturally and successfully are less than 5%. I know that the hope for another baby was a little selfish, because I have healthy children already. Knowing and feeling are two different things though. I’m feeling sad and lost and broken.

Maybe this is why perimenopause has such a high correlation of depression. How is a woman supposed to navigate the changes happening to her body when she can’t even make an appointment to see her doctor without jumping through hoops?

Sorry for the rant.