I'd be lying if I said it hasn't been a little calmer around here since we took a hiatus from the baby making. Actually participating in random acts of *ahem* scrabble. Some times breaks are necessary. Resting from an arduous task or difficult climb. Realizing it's alright to stop midway up the ascent to Everest and as a perfectionist and overachiever, being satisfied in the moment. I had an epiphany. During my visit last week to the shrink it became abundantly clear. Crystal. And I don't know why it took so long to come to that thought. The reason the last 6 months have been harder than the rest is because we were already on overwhelm before we saw the fertility specialist. When you're already on the teetering edge of crazy, the regime of daily/weekly blood work, ovulation tests, pelvic ultrasounds and dr visits are just a little strenuous. It makes it hard to be able to handle the finally successful rounds of clomid producing ovulation. I'm pretty sure if I would've gotten pregnant it may of been like getting pregnant on crack, my fragile psyche may have been pushed into early postpartum depression. But, as always, hindsight is twenty-twenty. (And I'll apologize right now for the longish runon paragraph, emotions are hard to separate properly.) When we start this little journey next Jan/Feb it'll be a little more of a reality. We'll have the right drugs from the get go and the hopefully the strength and endurance to ride the roller coaster.
I'd be lying to say I wasn't enjoying last weekend. Between the unshackled mood of Aunt Flo's visit and the realization that impregnation wouldn't be happening anytime soon, it was all the more freeing when the Sangria's started flowing down my parched throat. As slightly inebriated baby sister and I stumbled down the streets of Portland in the wee hours of the night behind our spouses, it was a bit of a relief to not be neglecting any children or having to place their care in someone else's hands while being completely stupidly unresponsible for myself. Sometimes it's joyous being an adult, and yes I know they have these things called 'sitters' but those barren like myself have to see silver linings everywhere.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't melancholy on occasion. It can feel a little rugged at times seeing photos of cute satisfied new moms holding their sweets bundles of joys or hearing story after story of your parents and sibs and sibs and children and friends and children. It can be a bitter pill to swallow on some occasions. One woman's whiny crying terrible two's is another man's priceless treasure. Only a barren womb can yearn for that thing so many take for granted. Don't get me wrong. Myself and others like me, LOVE your children. We generally see playgrounds full of kids, school yards, neighborhoods, friends and children and are happy. It brings a giggle to our lips and happiness to our chest. A babysitting event can be the perfect kid fix. Just sometimes, when it's almost eerily quiet and the only disturbances in your house is your dog and cat bickering and the clicking clack of the fingers hitting keyboard, that you remember. You don't have the completely spontaneous combustion and clatter of a little person selfishly butting in to your completely selfish 'me time'. Your barren body isn't offering that. You don't even know when that is going to happen.
I'd be lying to say I wasn't moping a bit. My shrink says I'm processing things healthily. She's comfortable with me taking a break from her until I hit another wall or we start 'trying' again. I came to her with a purpose and the pain is ebbing and flowing in a healthy manner. Yet, as is the case in life, some evenings are crazier than others and sometimes the littlest stupidest thing, like someone's FB profile photo, can remind you of the exact spot you are at in life. For instance barren, at 29, here, now.
Don't mind me. Tomorrow the sun will come up and I'll be able to enjoy the beauty of spring. A week ago I woke up to 6 inches of snow and yet today it was in the mid 60s. A damn heat wave for the Pacific Northwest. Plenty of weather for walking the dog and putting away all the pieces of the wedding. Plenty of time for sleeping in before hitting the early easter service at church. Assisting in the toddler watching at our 'mega-church.' I'm trying to be the bigger girl and overlook my angstyness of the overpopulated religious gatherings by sacrificing my free time so another parent can enjoy themselves unhindered. To each our own.
Happy Easter ... may you enjoy your odd pork products and pretty dresses and overfilled special religious holiday church services and candy ... and however else you celebrate.
