My daughter’s most recent handiwork.
It sits on my face, a throbbing reminder.
Today I had 1.5 hours with my daughter before bed. Half of that time she spent throwing a hitting, kicking fit.
This is probably going to get worse, before it get’s better.
Thank you all for your comments on my last post. I so appreciate not feeling alone. I forgot to mention it in that post, but during that long walk of shame back to the car I felt like I was the only parent who had ever had to do such a thing. I knew it wasn’t true, but it felt like it, at that moment.
I appreciated all your assurances that I am not alone. And I value hearing what has worked for you. I will definitely be attempting the strategies I think will work for us as well.
This weekend I deliberately missed our staff holiday party. It was the first time in nine years I haven’t gone. I was bummed out not to go but I knew I’d have been more bummed out if I had gone. I guess that is what the holiday season is about this year, the lesser of two evils, the hurt that doesn’t hurt as much.
Mi.Vida spends a lot of time lately reminding me that we have a good life. And for now, I believe him, but I realize that I believe him only because I still have hope of another child. When that hope extinguishes, will I still be able to recognize the good in our life? I honestly don’t know the answer.
Tomorrow I perform one of my first rights of passage as an IFer (am I an IFer now? For all these years I’ve been a card carrying member of the loss club, trying so hard not to step on the toes of actual IFers–I can’t really imagine incorporating the label after all the years of assuring people I wasn’t trying to do that.) Tomorrow morning, if all goes well, I will be screeching across town in rush hour traffic with my man’s deposit between my breasts, hoping against hope that I can make it there before the 60 minutes is up. I will admit, I’m quite nervous. San Francisco is only 7×7 miles but it still takes forever to get from one side of it to another. I would hate to waste Mi.Vida’s attempt, causing us to push the whole thing back until the end of the week at the earliest. I just want to get it over with.
And with that I must go. I have a math test to create and a Spanish mad lib to author. It’s going to be a long night.
UPDATE: No SA today. Mi.Vida woke up with that same norovirus Isa and I had last week (he always seems to get things a week later – how is that?) so we’ll have to postpone. And since it needs to be timed perfectly with sex 2-3 days prior we’ll need to postpone until next week. I have to admit, I’m really frustrated. I hate sex. I hate sperm, I hate ovulation, I hate CDs and DPO, I hate POAS, I hate all of it. And I hate that the timing of my next cycle coinciding with the holidays will mean we probably have to wait another month to do my testing. I know I’ve waited almost a year so a few more months shouldn’t matter, and I doubt these tests will even tell me anything, but I just want to fucking DO SOMETHING other than what we’ve already been doing (unsuccessfully) for a year. I’m so sick of banging my head against a brick wall, wondering why it’s not getting me pregnant.