I took this photo out in our backyard a few minutes ago. Aren’t the buttercups* beautiful, all bright and sunny and bursting with promise?Me?
Not so bright, not so sunny, and definitely not bursting with promise of any kind. I am indeed the polar opposite of these hopeful little flowers at the moment.
I’m just so blue today.
I’m nervous that the Pro.metrium won’t work and my period won’t come.
I’m scared about my HSG, both the actual test and the results.
I’m lonely. I have wonderful girlfriends scattered all over the country, but only one friend locally who I can call and have some “girl time” with. I moved to O’s hometown when we got married and it’s a VERY close knit community (translated: "You're not from 'round these parts, are you?") so it’s hard to make friends. I’ve moved many times and I’ve never found it as hard to establish relationships as it is here.
I can’t seem to find a job. I have a degree in journalism but have spent most of my career managing doctor’s offices and clinics. I have to tell you, the thought of going back into management right now makes me want to crawl under my desk and stay there. It was an exhausting job. It often felt like raising other people’s poorly behaved children. I worked in the front office at a family practice just out of college and I loved it. That’s the type of position I’m looking for at the moment but they are few and far between and I am overqualified. I'm sure that not being from 'round these parts doesn't help either.
Even if I could find a job, I don’t know if I could accept it in good conscience. It would be unfair to a potential employer to commit to something and then start asking for time off immediately. I have more appointments than I can shake a stick at scheduled with the RE once this cycle gets rolling. That office is 2 hours away, which means taking a half day off for every appointment. Plus, if I get pregnant I wouldn’t work for long, and I KNOW I wouldn’t work for the first few years after our baby was born. I don’t want to commit to something that I have no intention of following through on.
For a couple of years, I’ve been thinking about going back to school and getting my x-ray tech/ ultrasound certification. But I can’t do that right now either. All of our extra money will be stuffed up my ha-ha for the foreseeable future.
I’m sad that we can’t have a dog because of my allergies. I want one. Badly. But I can’t start allergy shots in the midst of OVARYPALOOZA 2007.
I’m pissed that I can’t do what I usually do when I’m feeling blue – shop. Why? See “money stuffed up ha-ha”.
I’m also angry that I can’t partake of my other favorite stress relieving activity. Eating food. Massive quantities of food.
And of course, there is the ever-present refrain of “What the f*ck am I going to do if I can’t have a baby?” In today’s frame of mind my answer is somewhere along the lines of “Die old and alone with no one to love me.”
See, no bright, sunny, bursting with promise-ness here! No sir-eee!
You know what I think the real problem is? I feel so damned out of control. So many parts of my life are on hold for a situation that I can do NOTHING ABOUT!
NOTHING!
Sure, I can be a well-informed patient, seek the best medical care I can find, follow my doctor’s orders, and take good care of myself. But when it really boils down to it, I have absolutely no control over whether I will give birth to a baby.
Our buttercups were planted by O’s beloved grandmother about 50 years ago when they first built their home on this land. Each spring they are like a happy little gift to us, a reminder of how much his Meemaw loved her home and her family. Each spring I look at them popping up all over the yard and they make me happy. I hope that she can somehow see the pretty little house we’ve built here, and how happy O. and I are together.
But this year, looking at them makes me a little bit sad too. I can’t help but wonder if there will ever be a time, fifty years from now, when OUR grandchild will stand on that very spot and be able to say, “My great, great grandmother planted those flowers a hundred years ago.”
The thing that’s getting to me today is that I have no control over that whatsoever.
And it absolutely sucks.
(* Yes, I know they are technically daffodils, but we’re Southerners and they’re buttercups.)
