A year in hell topped with a cherry

In order to have some context, let’s go back a few years…

2014: I’m midway through my predoctoral clinical psychology internship (read: I’ve been in school my entire life, I’m 26-years-old, I’m highly stressed, and I’m still working on my dissertation), the grandmother of my boyfriend of 9.5 years has heart problems which eventually leads to surgery, and boyfriend’s father is diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer. As the year progresses we get engaged, cancer treatments occur and I graduate with my doctorate while planning our wedding for August 2015.

January 2015: grandma has a heart attack, days of hospice ensue, funeral number 1 for the year.

February/March 2015: hubs temporarily loses sight in one of his eyes and is diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.

April 2015: grandpa suddenly passes from what we believe was a broken heart. Funeral count: 2

July 2015: future father-in-law passes suddenly from a stroke likely related to complications from various treatments and infections. Funeral count now at 3. Wait a moment though, his instructions were to be buried overseas… funeral count goes up to 4.

August 2015: work ends suddenly the week before our wedding, the day before our wedding another family member is diagnosed with breast cancer, and being out of work and caring about this individual, I become a caretaker and end up spending a LOT of time with doctors, Breast Cancer specialists, and at treatments and meetings.

Sometime later we discover hubs also has the breast cancer gene and can pass it on to babies. Basically, we’re newly weds with a traumatic past year who’ve just been told that if we decide to have kids naturally, we’re setting them up for a highly possible future of dealing with what our recent family life events have entailed.

The stage is set and so starts our baby doc science adventure.

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