First I would like to apologize for my drama queen meltdown yesterday. I’ve spent the morning reading blogs of ladies who are coping with much worse issues than I. Their strength is shaming me. My world has not ended (despite how it felt yesterday…and this morning if I’m honest).
The very brave and strong rainbeforerainbows posted a blog a while ago and said her therapist advised her to allocate ‘worry time’. I like that idea… OK- bit of sad, TV-related honesty here too. WW is filling her time watching Lost (which she missed first time around) while I sit
obsessing with reading infertility blogs. While pages are loading or my internet connection is playing funny buggers I take in a little. Right at the beginning Jack tells Kate a story about panic and how he allowed it to fill him, counted to 5 and then got on with it. Both different branches from the same tree. That’s what I’m going to try. Allowing myself to wallow briefly and then moving on mentally.
So I had my wobble already this morning, whatifweneverhavekidsthiscycleisnevergoingtoworkcanweaffordtotryagain and now I have to stop. Que sera sera. I am not going to start exercising crazily (haha, as if that was ever likely) and I will otherwise prepare my body for a pregnancy that may happen this month or next while trying not to get too hopeful in case reality comes along and takes a big poop on my dream.
I’ve gotten ridiculous about superstitions despite all my big talk. l have always said I wouldn’t buy baby stuff until the second trimester so I don’t tempt fate. I don’t believe in God but it seems that when you make bold statements something comes alone to slap you down a peg or two. We, as I have mentioned already, live quite far outside the city and don’t have easy access to many Western style supermarkets so when we were in the city on the way to transfer yesterday I picked up some salty crackers and ginger tea for morning sickness. What was I thinking? Now they will just sit in the cupboard for an age, mocking my dumb optimism.
I am eating high protein/vegetable meals today and forcing down pineapple that I don’t really fancy. I am still shoving the Bullets of Sadness into my hairy axe wound* (I’m going to go ahead and blame my emotional crazies on progesterone- it makes me feel better to have something external to blame. If I’m wrong don’t rob me of my ignorance please). I am wearing socks. I haven’t worn socks for 3 years. The only shoes I wear are flip flops. I am still doing my medically advised bed rest. I am thinking about sending WW on a couple of hours round trip using only very cheap public transport to procure some avocadoes. I’m not even certain they will be available. Does anyone have any more theories/traditions/superstitions/magic spells for me to try?
What am I doing? Do I really believe any of this stuff will work? Aren’t I a science graduate? Don’t I gleefully skip in front of black cats and under ladders? But wouldn’t I spend forever blaming myself for getting a negative result if I didn’t try all this crazy shit?
Plus I am the girl who, at 16, did a spell involving imbibing my wished for love and a family into liquid concoction which I poured onto a tree’s roots. I visited that tree on several occasions to bring it little drinks of water and visualize and meditate some more.
I was gutted that I didn’t get my letter to Hogwarts but secretly hoped that after I qualified as a teacher they might contact me and ask me to teach Muggle Studies. I was convinced some creepy, old guy would follow me home from school one day and tell me I was the next Slayer. Every night when I can’t sleep with all the chatter in my head I picture a little baby sleeping happily in my belly and I nod straight off.
Got to go. There are some people wearing white coats knocking at the door.
PS. WW is flapping. I’m not sure she will be able to cope with many months of this. Every time I wriggle in bed she panics and tells me to be careful. I got told off for walking two steps to grab the lap top. She freaked out that I was resting my kindle on my belly. She was napping but woke up to shout at me when I sat down and put the lap top on my stomach. I am now straining my wrists to type on top of a half a meter thick pillow she has protecting my stomach and dented little embryos from the evil, baby killing computer. I’m worried about her blood pressure and we’ve barely started.
*one of my favorite bad euphemisms, sorry if it offended you, it always brings a smile to my face 😀