Bea

the due date that never was.

And here we are, the due date week. And I'm ok, I made it. I'm not crumbling or distraught or crying or..well, I'm not being dramatic. Wow. Who'd have thunk it?

I had worried that I might fall into a bit of a depression, a bit of a  black hole of 'what if'. Earlier this month I couldn't help but think that I shouldn't be planning to take a trip overseas, and instead should be nesting and getting ready for a new arrival. I thought that maybe it would be too hard to think about this week, about what could and should have been.

Instead? I'm relieved that this heavy week of work is over, happy to take some time out while I figure out what's next, and giddy with excitement over seeing my family next week. My Dad! I'm going to see my Dad! Is there anything better than a Dad hug? I didn't think so. 

So posting will be light over the next week, if at all. Keep an eye out on twitter though, I'll be there for sure.

I'll be taking some time to see the new tricks that neices can do, discuss the possibility of rocket ships

with nephews, and meet new family members born just months ago. I'll dance in celebration of a cousins wedding, and listen to the stories of wise grandparents. Hear the laughter and warmth of family that I miss too often way down here in the southern hemisphere.

Of course, there will be pictures and stories and memories to tell later. All in good time.

p.s. pack your balaclavas away, theives. we have 3 cats ready to cuddle maul you to death and friends house-sitting. plans to steal our used lounge suite and telephone bill? thwarted!

It's come to this: bullet points.

• I have a very best friend who I miss very much. This very best friend of mine is used to my sense of humour, will tap dance in cow slippers for a laugh, and is known to wear underwear and goggles on her head should the situation require it*. She's a gem and lives exactly 9698474636386589 miles away from me.
• I am FOUR days away from a holiday
• The reason I haven't posted very much lately is not because I am in the depths of dispair over infertility David and I are working on that it's because I've been stuck reading over at thebloggess.
  
• Have you checked out Just Mommies yet? You should. Because I'm feeling pretty lonely on the ttc blog...everyone else is hc (has conceived). Show offs.
• I have left my laptop at work and am now working from our home computer in the livving room with a stupid broken mouse, a keyboard with a lead so short my knees are jammed up agains the cabinet that the computer is in, and yet somehow I am still too far away to actually read the screen. I hope I spelled some of that right. And my mousepad is a cd case. Balanced on the side of the chair. It's precarious at best.
• I have chosen a name for our son. No, he's not conceived yet. You get so bogged down in details, don't you?
• I have just picked up the mouse from the floor and put it back together. again. 
• I thought I had enough to make up 10 bullet points, but here I am stuck at number 8, and I don't even think this one counts.
• I spent over $100 on pre-seed today. There's something my 16 year old child will not want to hear. 
• And there you have it, 10.**
  

* like, you know, invading the guys dorms (it may well have been more than a few years since we've done this, but i have no doubt that she still has the reflexes of a cat.)
** not really because if you take out number 10 and number 8, there's only 8. But then, if you hadd in the two subpoints there is 10. So, hey. 10!

holy crap with the crying.

Really, I honestly thought that once my period arrived that I'd stop crying. Like crying when Asshat* colleague announced his wifes' pregnancy. Or when my employer announces my role is being dis-established and I need to create and then apply for a new one.** Or like when I was home last night alone, sitting in the bathtub, trying to read a 'how to get your best career yet' book but couldn't see the words for the sobbing. Or when Lovely*** colleague brought his new baby to the office. The tears, they're not stopping

I'm really annoying myself now. 

I assumed the tears were because of hormones and the turmoil they cause internally. And normally this shit sorts itself out within 12 hours of my period starting. But now? I'm like a 16 yr old teenage girl whose mother has told her she can't wear the yellow mini skirt because it makes her look cheap and slutty. IT'S SO NOT FAIR (LYNN**** TOTALLY GETS TO WEAR WHATEVER SHE WANTS!!!). 

I may need a trip to emergency just to get re-hydrated from all this crying. 

Or perhaps a couple dozen shots of vodka would do. 

I'm gonna make a new shooter of vodka and folic acid. 

Also, I think after 2+ years of taking folic acid regularly, I deserve at least a card from the folic acid companies to thank me for single handedly keeping their industry alive. Other women? Dump them after the first trimester. They're so fickle like that. I'M COMMITTED. (or should be committed. which is it?)

I hope the Child and Youth Services aren't reading this. Do you think they can acuse me of child abuse if I'm drinking vodka while taking folic acid and trying to get pregnant? Child abuse before the child?

I don't know how this blog post should end. But, as usual, it's making me feel better. How about you? 

Tell me, when was the last time you cried and why?

* not his real name

** seriously, this is happening. so, you know, if you were thinking of paying me to blog, I'm not gonna stop you. 

***not his name either

****she did. i'm not harbouring any grudges about it though

yup, still waiting....and waiting....is it supposed to be a 3ww?

Ha! Oh, mother nature, that is one hell of a sense of humour. Here we are on day 32, still waiting for the next cycle to start. 

Yes, we've been this far before but there's always been some hope that we've made it this far because I'm pregnant. This time? We know I'm not - at least we assume I'm not- and still here we are waiting. My sides are splitting from the comedy of at all. 

And listen, if you were just waiting for a later start so that we wouldn't shame our families by being arrested for lude behaviour while travelling mid-air well, goal achieved. And actually, if you arrived just about now that would be ideal holiday shagging time in just two weeks.

So, yeah, now is good. Or now. Say, how about now?

not pregnant, but stuck in the 2-week wait

Some months, you just know you're not pregnant. 

The combination of our recent house move, a week long business trip out of town during the week to conceive and a longer commuter has meant that, well, I've called the tired card too many times. To be fair, so did he. And that's just what life is like, isn't it? 

You start out on this ttc journey all excited and ready to make a baby, like, NOW. And when it doesn't happen for a while interest can wain. I know, you never though it would did you? Remember the early heady days of hours of sex? When you couldn't wait to get home and get your kit off and be as close as humanly possible to your beloved?

I remember them too, but a marriage is built on more than hours of sexual pleasure, really. It's the laughs and conversations, the jokes and comfortable silences that keep us together long after the weeks of light-headed behaviour fades.

Anywho, where was I? Oh yes, not pregnant. And that's ok, despite my previous meltdown, because if I know I'm not I can look forward to next month. I can plan and get ready, rest up so that this month we'll have a real chance. But only when the next cycle starts. Which it hasn't. Yet. 

I'm not that late, in the grand scheme. Just a day. But a day later means another day waiting for the next cycle to start. Means that the 'peak' fertility days start to look like they'll fall when we're in mid-air, en-route to Singapore. I'm betting Singapore Airlines doens't have a very postive outlook to marital relations in mid-air, even if it is for baby-making. 

If there's any karma in the world left for me, and I know I haven't earned much lately, I'd like to cash it in just now. Thanks. A quick cycle start, and a long fertile period...would it be too much to ask for a sperm meets egg moment too? I've always been a strong believer of don't ask, don't get. But maybe I've just asked for too much.

ok, really world, there is only so much that this girl can take -and you're going to give me that?

For the most part, I do my level best to take the higher road. To see the good in others, to be happy for them in their gains. To not compare mine with theirs.

And then there are days where the prevailing thought is 'fuck it'. 

Today is such a day.

I know, pregnancy news is all good. Except for when it comes from someone you don't particularly like anyways. And you're not inclined to like their spouse either. And you have to spend the majority of your day two feet across from them. Whle they wave their A4 size copy of yesterdays 12 week scan.

BASTARD.

Is it ok to be that angry? To be truly upset and hurt by his joy? Or is it too selfish?

I cried, oh how I cried. Out of view, of course. Isn't that what ladies cubicles are made for? I cried out of jealousy, envy and all the other ugly emotions that poured out of me. I called David, and cried some more. Blubbed about how it was all unfair, that the world doesn't love me. Poor David, how do you console an inconsolable wife over the phone?

Oh God. How STUPID am I?  Trying to have a baby at 35? FOOL. Why is eyesight only 20/20 in hindsight? Where was my biological clock at 25, 30? And for that matter, where was David? 

Now that I've written all that, I'm losing steam. It's out, in the interwebs, and so it's lost momentum and I'm spent. I'm drained. I'm numb.

My eyes are tired from crying, my chest sore from trying to catch my breath. 

Tomorrow I will be fine. I'll pick myself up and continue on. Be strong, work hard, and thank the world for making it a Friday. Because what else can you do?

As if you needed proof that I am a genius.

On Monday there was this guy that I was living with. He was alright, bit annoying with his inability to put out the trash and unwillingness to clean the kitty litter. He was warm enough in bed, but had a tendency to steal the covers and put his cold feet on me. And, ok, fine, he talked a little too much about work.

On Tuesday I left for a work conference. Three days of seminars about time management, driving referrals, and how to develop staff. Three days of working and socialising with the same people. Too many coffees, quick lunches. They are great people, sure, but 72 hours of them is a little much.

Thursday night I came home. And there was this man, in my house. And he? IS HOT. Ladies, I kid you not that I'm totally into him. I can't get enough of him. He's kind, and a good listener, and was excited to see me. He made coffee for me this morning, and gave me the kind of good morning/have a good day kiss that you feel in your THIGHS. 

And I married him. Shit, I am SMART.

 

Good Men Are Worth Their Weight in Gold