Okay, my sham of a blog break is officially over. I left tried to leave for a lot of reasons but I realize I need to be here and I can manage the other reasons I felt compelled to leave better than I can manage not writing here. The truth is right now I need to write here for myself. This is my place to get it out, I can’t function without this release. I literally need it, even if it’s a one way street and I’m just sending myself out there and nothing comes back. I think somewhere along the way I forgot how valuable just writing to get it out is. In the past two weeks I’ve been reminded of that.

It’s DPO8, as far as I can tell. My boobs are quite sore, but they’ve been sore during some of my recent LPs, especially since I started taking the B6. Still, they seem more sore, and I wonder if that’s because they are legitimately more tender or they feel that way because I’m constantly jabbing and squeezing them, trying to decide if their state of soreness is a sign, of well, you know.

My second pregnancy, the one that stuck, started with breast soreness. My boobs were so sore during that 2WW I was miserable. On DPO11 I POAS because I was losing my mind. I remember thinking, if my boobs are going to be this sore during every 2WW I’ll go crazy. And then I saw two lines. And well, you know the rest.

I’m definitely standing on the high ledge of hope, talking myself down. But I’m strangely calm. I really have very tempered expectations. I mean this is our first month trying, I never really expected it could happen this quickly. I doubt I will even be disappointed if I’m not pregnant (okay, probably a little). And yet I see myself standing there, on that high ledge of hope. Wondering quietly. Hoping quietly. Curious really, more than anything.

That strange calm, it seems to be permeating all parts of my life. It’s that feeling I get, when I’ve done all I can do, when there is nothing left but to wait. I am in that place now. I’ve put my intentions out into the universe and there really isn’t much else I can do but wait to see what happens. I’ve worked so hard on my relationship, only to realize that the rest of the work has to be done without me. The job applications, the manuscript submissions, the housing search (well that is yet to start but I doubt we’re really even going to forward with it), it’s out of my hands.

All that leaves is the day to day. The minutia. The waking up, commuting to work, doing dishes, hauling laundry, sifting cat litter, checking bank accounts, buying groceries. You know, the things that fill up our days, that define, in many ways, our lives, that is where I am. I am in the middle of that. It consumes me. Actually it doesn’t. I kind of wish it did.

I’m not good with the minutia. I’m not good existing within the day to day. I notice the calm teetering on the edge of boredom, which threatens to morph into depression. I notice it in the way I see food and think about eating. I want to shove things into my mouth not because I’m hungry or even because they taste good but because there isn’t anything else to do, because it would be a moment, just one small moment during which I’d be experiencing something.

It’s funny, the past ten years of therapy have brought me a lot of clarify. I can see so much of my life for what it is. But for all the clarity I’ve achieved, I’ve learned almost nothing about how to be happy. I’ve learned very little about how to exist in the day to day, how to find joy in my job or in my relationship, especially when those things get hard. I know what I need to do but I don’t know how to do it. And maybe I’m not meant to, at least not yet.

The light in my life right now, is of course my daughter. She brings me so much joy every day of my life. I look forward to spending the summer with her, to being with her every day, to experiencing the world with her, to being her teacher and student. She is such an incredibly miracle, one I’m grateful for every single minute. Sometimes her presence makes the ache for another baby muted, sometimes it amplifies it, but always it helps distract me from it. I am forever grateful for that as well.

I’m also grateful that I can still button my pants, despite continual weight gain since being off my medication. As long as I can still wear my pants, at least semi-comfortably, I will be on the right side of happy.

Thanks for the advice on the job application. I’ll apply today and I guess we’ll see what happens.

2 responses

  1. Being able to button your pants should never be taken for granted! May the calm you’re experiencing, as well as the buttoned pants, continue.

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