I’m on my way home from five days with my friends in Austin. It was hot. Brutally hot. We had a great time.
There is too much, and yet nothing at all, to relate about the last few days. I can’t seem to put it together into something coherent and meaningful but I can already tell that I won’t be able to write about anything else until I get it out there, out of me. And besides, there is important news to share.
And no, I’m not pregnant. My cousin is, with her second. Her first is a bit younger than Isa. I got the email half way through my trip. I wasn’t surprised, I knew it was coming and yet it stung in a way I wasn’t expecting. Or perhaps I was expecting the sting. I sure was waiting for the announcement. She started trying not long after I did. I knew it would happen right away for her, just like it did before. And I was right. She’s due in February.
This casts a positive light on the sad fact that we can’t visit family this Christmas, we can’t afford it. At least I won’t have to face my cousins beautiful baby bump for a week.
Anyway, my cousin is pregnant again, first month trying, just like before. Actually the first time she got pregnant before they started trying. People I know are just that way. At least the ones in real life. Heck, some of the IFers are like that these days too. Of course that stings a lot, lot less. That makes me happy.
I ovulated late this month, so the chances of this being my month, of me joining my cousin in the realm of pregnancy are slim. I will wake up to the final answer on my birthday. I will be celebrating 32 years.
I know I am young. 32 isn’t especially alarming to me. Sure I wanted to have all my children before I turned the big three-oh but I’ve mourned that dream and let it go. I realized that I also mourned the dream that this time TTC would be fun and easy. Everyone assured me it would be better this time, and I believed them. My cycles were so much more regular, I was sure I’d get knocked up quick. But it won’t be that way and while it’s hard for me to accept I’m moving past it. I’m just not like all the people I know in real life. I have to remember that I’m not a all that weird either, I’m just not super fertile. It’s just not who I am and I’m okay with that. For maybe the first time in forever.
The trip with my friends was a lot of fun. There were difficult moments to be sure but in the end I think we, and our friendships, were better for them. While I was expecting the conflict (to be fair I wasn’t expecting the magnitude of the conflict, which could never have been foreseen), I wasn’t expecting how good we all felt after.
I missed Isa like crazy. I thought about her all the time, but only mentioned her infrequently (or at least it felt infrequent to me – I mentioned her maybe once out of every ten times I thoughts about her). By the end I was dying to get home to her. I can’t wait to see her when I get off this plane. (Incidentally she seemed totally unfazed to be away from me, and this doesn’t bother me at.)
I adjusted quickly to life without maternal responsibilities; in fact the transition was alarmingly effortless. Having all that time, indulging in whatever I wanted to do, it came so naturally to me. I felt I didn’t enjoy it nearly enough. I’d venture to say I took it for granted.
I didn’t sleep well on the trip, that was the only unfortunate thing. I so wanted to get a lot of rest; I so hoped to come back refreshed. But every night it took hours to fall asleep and I was awake again at an ungodly hour. I hope I sleep like a brick tonight, in my own bed, next to my love.
We put an offer on another house on Monday night. This house had been on the market for a couple months so we thought we had a chance. On Tuesday morning we found out another buyer had swooped in out of the blue and put in an offer. I bit my nails all the way to the airport. At TSA I lost my boarding pass but someone found it. During my layover in LA I lost my iPhone but someone turned it in. I had my epiphany. By the time I met my friend at our gate I was so ready for the beers we drank.
There were, of course, counter offers to receive and send. There was waiting, so much fucking waiting, especially on July 4th when everything shut down. I must have checked my phone a million times on the trip. Finally, on Friday night, after the spectacular blow up between me and my friends, the call came in.
They accepted our offer! Evidently it was my letter that did it. And the fact that we met their counter offer, despite it being higher than we had hoped to spend. But we got the house! It’s in a great location and we love the space, especially the back yard. There is an inlaw unit below that we’ll have to rent out to make some money. It’s actually illegal to rent the space (though VERY common for people to do so) but we can sublease it as a room in our house to international students and make enough to pay our mortgage. We can also keep it open in the summer and I can teach a camp of some kind, making a good $5K-$8K of extra cash.
While all this was in flux, the CPA I’d hired to figure out exactly how much we’d be saving in income tax got back to me. Turns out our mortgage broker was right, we do save enough to cover the property taxes, at least in the first year. Also, we finally found out that if we marry we’ll actually lose some money on our taxes, but it’s only $250 a year. It was nice to finally know that though, we’ve always wondered.
All in all it was a good trip, a strange mixture of intense highs and lows churning over a slow, hot landscape of food, drink and girl talk. I return home with a lot of excitement and anticipation, ready to jump into planning this move, which I’m hoping beyond hope happens before I start school, before I have to unpack my classroom. August is going to be all packing all the time. I seriously don’t know how I’m going to manage it.
I guess it’s a good thing I most probably won’t be pregnant… at least not yet.