The first month of active trying is over. We survived it and none of the sticks that were peed on yielded anything positive. Mother Nature has arrived with all of her glory and reminded me again that I'm not in control.
And now, for some melodrama.
I just don't think I can do this again. I really don't think I can go through another several months of waiting for something completely out of my control to happen. The thought of the time and the suspense and the obsessing is making me nauseous.
I don't understand how anyone can do this and not lose sanity. I don't get how anyone could be patient or upbeat or optimistic during this process. This sucks. It's awful. It's miserable. I am hating every second of waiting and not knowing. I can't "just hang on." I can't just let the days pass without worrying. Every day is hard. Every minute is hard.
I think this whole thing just isn't for me. I can spoil other people's kids and still get to sleep in on weekends.
Right now, the sheer enormity of the amount of time in the universe is making it so this seems insurmountable. Variables and I are not palsies. Variables can suck it. Every time I solve for x, the answer is "Fuck this shit."
If part of being a good parent is understanding self care, then I'm being a good independent adult and understanding my limitations. This is causing so much anxiety and melancholia that there are moments where I can't breathe.
This shit is too much.
I assume that it's just the hormones of being a menstrual case that are making me so overwhelmed, but maybe not. Maybe I'm just understanding my limits. Maybe I don't want to feel like this for another second, and I understand that as long as this is an option, it will be the only thing. There will be nothing else. If this could be a part of my universe and not the whole damn thing, it would be manageable. I cannot move it to a place in my mind that isn't ALL OF IT.
As always, it's hip to be square (and fucking beat), kids!