Funky Monkey

There is no better way to describe my mood lately. Just. Funky.

I woke up Saturday morning a total basket case. Poor Pace. I don't know how he does it sometimes. He asked me to go to the bank to cash a check before the bank closed and I literally started bawling. Not just teared up...bawling. Sobbing. Snot all over my face. Gasping for air. (I'll show him, I bet he never asks me to go to the bank again) What the hell is wrong with me?

I guess I just felt totally and completely overwhelmed to the point where a simple, routine trip to the bank just sent me over the dang edge.

My mother in law has a two year old daughter. This pregnancy was not planned and was definitely a surprise to her, but I commend her for everything she does for her daughter. Most of the time, the fact that my 45 year old mother in law can accidently get pregnant doesn't bother me, but since my last failed cycle, it has been a very jagged pill for me to swallow. Let's face it...it is hard for me to be around anyone that is pregnant...planned or unplanned and is also hard for me to be around young children...planned or unplanned. This weekend I decided I wanted to spend some time with my little sister in law. What a mistake. Not a mistake as in I didn't enjoy myself, not a mistake as in I regret spending time with her. In fact, just the opposite. Spending time with her this weekend made me want my own biological children that much more!

I had been doing a fairly good job of convincing myself that a life without kids was much better than a life with kids. No poopy diapers, not having to find a babysitter, less expensive, more money to spend on toys, less responsibility, more room in the house, less expensive, less stressful, no sleepless nights, no temper tantrums, less expensive (can you tell I am a little obsessed with finances). Then I spent a day with my little two year old sister in law and all of that hard work and convincing was just washed away.

I totally fell in love and that void and sense of loss and anger came rushing back to me. The hugs she gave me, the kisses, the new words she is learning, her "help" dusting and folding clothes, the way she loves on my dogs, the singing songs in the car, the way she dances, the way her face lights up in the bathtub, all of those things and much more reminded me of how much I wanted one of my own. She reminded me of my failures, my insecurities, and my inability to procreate. Damn it!

After all of that (and some funky stomach bug accompanied by a fever) this weekend, I force myself out of bed this morning to go to work. At first I was very excited. The sky was overcast. It was only supposed to get up into the 90's today, good chance for some rain, the day was actually looking halfway decent.
I walk out my front door, the birds are chirping, the bees are peacefully buzzing around my yard, the lizards are happily scampering through the landscaping and then...
there she was...
...
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Mrs. Eight months pregnant
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walking right in front of my house
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I tried to look away
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I tried to ignore her
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But then...
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she said "Hello, good morning." in the sweetest, most sincere voice.
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To which I wanted to reply with a rant of four letter, colorful obscenities and questions like "Why must you torture me? Can't you walk in front of my house AFTER I have left for work?
"Why must you be so nice and clearly make your presence known to me? Tons of people walk by my house every day to exercise, walk their dogs or take their kids on a bike ride....THEY don't talk to me. They don't even acknowledge my existence. Why can't you be like them. Ignore me. Pretend I am not here! Please I am begging you to STOP TORTURING ME!"
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But I didn't. I simply said good morning, got in my car and cried for 10 minutes before pulling out of my driveway.
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I finally manage to get to work and I am sharing my "funky stomach bug" symptoms with my friend (and co-worker - she knows EVERYTHING about our infertility) to which she replies "Oh...well did you take a pregnancy test? Cause that is exactly how I felt when I got pg."
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To which I wanted to reply
"Thanks" I feel much better now. Please excuse me while I go cut myself."**




**Disclaimer: I do not cut myself. My use of the term was just a lame attempt at bitter sarcasm. Cutting is a very serious issue and if you or anyone you know are "cutters" please seek help (or have them seek help) immediately!