The Tattoo

I have three tattoos and had always planned for several more. I know exactly what I want. When we lost Alexandra, my cute little fairy tattoo that I had planned for her turned into a memorial tattoo. I had the idea all worked out in my mind and I asked Steve to please get me that tattoo for my birthday. Steve agreed.
My birthday was August 6th.
I know what I want, it just needs to be drawn and put on my arm (inner forearm-ish). So, we contacted Steve's first choice. I emailed the artist and explained what I wanted and then I waited. I waited and I waited and I did not hear back from the artist. I wanted the tattoo to be done before Alexandra's memorial, but as the date approached, I could tell it wasn't going to happen. After a while, I gave up and did some research of my own. I discovered a tattoo place in my city that is supposed to be really great. When I checked out their website, I found an artist that I liked and I emailed her. I waited and I waited and I heard nothing back. After a while I gave up on the reply email and just called. I left a message and I waited. I waited and I waited and did not receive a return phone call.
After an angry email, I took to Google. I found another place that looked nice. The website was nice, the artists work was amazing, I was excited and I emailed. I didn't have to wait this time, because the artist called me and after some telephone tag, I finally got in contact with the artists assistant. We booked my consultation this morning at 10:30. When Steve was booked to work last night, I frantically made other arrangements to get there and for childcare for Dayne and I made my way downtown, arriving at the building with five minutes to spare.
I knocked on the closed door. No one answered. I knocked some more, still nothing. A woman from another business poked her head and told me that I should take a seat, I may need to wait a few minutes. So I sat and I waited. And I waited and I waited and I waited. And at ten minutes past 11am, I gave up and I left. As I explained to my step dad (my ride) that she did not show up, I had to work hard to prevent myself from crying. But when I got home and saw that Steve had made it home from work I burst into the bedroom and said "She didn't even show up, you know!" and after having worked all night, Steve was greeted by my flood gates opening and tears pouring down my face.
I just want Alexandra's memorial tattoo. I explained to all three of the artists how important this tattoo was and what it's for and it seems that I am the only one that cares. The whole idea of the tattoo seems tainted now, like the happy memory of Alexandra will not be attached to it, rather, I will remember the run around I got and crappy people can be, any time I look at it. But I don't want to go back to the drawing board and think of a new idea, I like this one.
Today I am feeling sorry for myself. Today I wanted to stay in bed and cuddle with Dayne, but I dragged myself out and for what?