Tuesday, July 28, 2009

The Long and the Short of It

Is: when I sit down and try to write a new post, to fill you in on what's happening/not happening here, I am also forced to figure out how I'm feeling, how I'm doing. And that's when I start feeling sorry for myself.

Unimaginably, embarrassingly, pathetically sorry for myself. It is beyond pathetic.

And I hate it. Cue in the self-loathing.

I hate writing about that. I hate feeling it. I hate anyone knowing or even sensing that it's happening.

Cuz I ain't looking for pity. From others. Most of all from myself.

Confession: I have a hard time accepting random acts of kindness. Because sometimes I cannot tell the difference between that, and pity. I am still angry about the free ice cream from the cashier at the Ponderosa who knowingly looked at my balding head, my 12-year old face and conspiratorily whispered, "go ahead. You can have it. Don't worry about it..." Angry at her for thinking her fucking soft serve would make things better. Angry at myself for taking it.

See? See how ugly this is? You don't want to read this. I don't want to write it.

I don't even want to mention the shock and joy that M and I felt this morning when someone said, "measuring....7.2"

Because before it even registered, it was followed with a, "oh wait. hang on. I think that was just the angle. No, no, more like 4.8."

But it did. It registered enough. The hope sparked long enough for it for it to really hurt when it was quashed.

Suckers. That's what we are.

And then it all starts again. M and I laughing it off. Playing it cool. In truth, this isn't a bad read. It isn't anything other than what we expected it to be. In fact, it might even be better than what I expected for such a brief time on estrogen compared to the month-long session I had to get to 4.9 for the mock cycle.

Because, you see, our expectations are rock bottom these days. But still.

And then I remember the days when I trudged back to the train station crying to M. about a 6.2 or a 7 mm lining. Crying because we would have to wait a few more days, take another u/s...

Fuck me. Those were the golden days.

And then I remember how god damned hopeful we were back then. How we felt we had a chance. A real chance. And then I acknowledge that we will never. Ever. Feel that way again.

Cue the self-pitying, follow up with self-loathing, And running after it comes the "stop blubbering you stupid fucking baby. are you the only person in the world with problems??" inner voice.


So this is why I haven't been writing. I've been trying to handle all of this. Keep it under wraps. Work it out with yoga, breathing, acupuncture, other things. Anything other than thinking about how good we once had it. If only for a few moments. For the most part, honest to goodness, it has been working. I felt calm getting in the car this morning. I felt ok this week. I have been repeating to my body over and over again, "it's ok. It's cool. I'm not mad at you. We're ok. I love you. Don't worry." Every moment I think about it I whisper to myself, "My heart is open for what comes next. My heart is open...." hoping that I will convince myself.

Something has to be said for persistence, right?

Monday, July 6, 2009


We are back.

From a vacation that was everything a vacation should be. We are relaxed. Renewed. Reminded that yes, life can be ok. Reminded that hell yes, sometimes you just laugh because you want to. And it is ok. Not a snarky, self-depreciating gallows humor type hah, but a Laugh. A full-bellied, eyes-tearing, did I just snort? kind of laugh.

We remembered that life can be fun. And that we are fun. And that we are most fun when we are together. I was sad to see M go to work this morning. Not because I know we're both in for a doozy of a day, but because I wouldn't be spending the day with him.

Besides a quick check at the doppler radar to plan our days and a 5 minute morning scan of work email to make sure nothing too too crazy was happening, this morning will be the first action our computers have seen in over a week. I am beyond pleased with myself that I didn't twitter, blog or email my break away. Which has been known to happen.

Today is a new day. Lots of work to do - both professionally and personally. But I feel ready.

So ready.

Howdy y'all. I'm back.