Here’s the thing.
I realized that Mi.Vida’s stuff is not about me. Which is freeing to be sure, and makes me feel a lot better about a lot of things. But it also makes me frustrated. And angry. And resentful as all hell.
It’s almost the end of May. We’ve been in counseling for at least six months (I can’t remember when we started but it was definitely before the New Year). We originally started because we couldn’t come to an agreement about when to start trying to have another kid, or if we should even have one.
I wanted to start trying in October. I wanted plenty of time for things to happen, to process losses, to not feel rushed. Mi.Vida didn’t want to start then. It was too soon. The possibility of having a barely two year old and a newborn broke his brain. It also would have broke the bank. We decided to wait until our finances were more in order, until Mi.Vida got a raise or another job.
Except he didn’t. He hasn’t even tried to do either. We waited until now to start trying so he’d have a chance to get started and he just didn’t. He never asked for a raise, and despite getting his resume and a professional website in order, he has not applied for one job. I don’t even think he’s really looked for one. Why did we wait all that time if he didn’t do anything anyway? What was the point of all of it?
I’m frustrated and angry. I know that Mi.Vida not asking for a raise or looking for a job doesn’t have anything to do with me or how much he loves me or how much he wants to add to our family, but it affects me and it still pisses me off. I conceded time and anxiety and worry and the chance to have my kids spaced the way I’d always wanted, so we’d be in a better place financially and he hasn’t even tried to make that happen. And if this takes a long time, either because we don’t get pregnant or we suffer losses, or both, I’m going to be so angry and resentful… and I don’t know how I’m going to let that go.
It’s 9DPO and I’ve determined that while my boobs are definitely sore, they are not prophetically sore. I’ve stepped way back from that high ledge of hope. I’ve counted out to CD1 (okay, I did that ages ago, but I recounted, to be sure) and then counted out to the green light time of the next cycle, when we get our second shot. I know there is still a chance I could be pregnant, but I need to move forward right now like I’m not. That is how I know to detach from the outcome. That is how I don’t care while still caring.
I realize I need something right now, something to work on, to plan for, to put my energies toward. I’m going to start writing the children’s book I have rattling in my head. I’m going to start writing a basic outline of my YA novel. I plan to work on both of these in my classes this summer but right now I need to start them, lest the banality of TTC drives me insane. I can’t do TTC if I have nothing else going on. I just can’t.
Thank gawd we have friends in town this weekend, when AF is due. Thank gawd I have plans to see my friends in July. Thank gawd I have a wedding to look forward to in late August. Thank god there are little points of happiness dotted throughout the next months, events to look forward to that have nothing to do with when I ovulate or when I’ll know if I’m pregnant, or if it’s time to try again.
I wanted so badly to do this better, better than last time, better than before. And I think I am, I really do. Could I be doing better? Absolutely. But could I be doing worse? So, so much worse. I think the difference is that deep down, under the impatience and frustration and worry, there is a belief that I will have another child. It might not happen on any time table I can imagine and it might require wading through a lot of loss and grief but I do think I’ll get there. And I know that some day, after I’ve gotten there, the hard stuff won’t hurt so much, and the pain will fade into my past, like all things, good and bad, tend to do. I suppose I’ve gained that perspective through the difficulties I’ve already experienced, through the struggles of others as well, and I’m thankful for that. Thankful that my pain, and the pain of others, has taught me something, has not been for naught.
I just hope the resentment will fade with the pain. I’m honestly not sure that it will.