Monday, December 2, 2013

Late


I am so tired of feeling like I'm being messed with all the time. 

I miss life when kids were the farthest thing from my mind. They're already pains in the ass, and I don't even have them yet.

I was late. The day the dumb bitch was supposed to show came and went with only the smallest amount of spotting. The day after did too. And the day after that. It really looked like this roller coaster might be over (or just starting, depending on how you look at it.) Then I did something that I swore I wouldn't:

I got my hopes up just the tiniest bit.

I had been nauseous for days and the ta-tas were hurting. I peed on sticks and they told me I was crazy. Seriously. They were like, "Bitch, what the fuck are you thinking? Two lines for you?! No way in hell." I held my breath and jumped up and down inside when everything was different this month. It just seemed like this was it.

And then it wasn't. 

And I'm just so mad at myself now. 

I'm also kind of mad at the universe. And by kind of, I mean totally. I'm so tired of this process and watching it work for people around me while I get beat up by my own effing body. I'm not even safe in my own skin. 

If you ever tell a person who is actively trying to get pregnant to "relax and just have fun," I hope a hoard of angry toddlers with shitty diapers raid your living room with grape juice in sippy cups that are not properly closed. Do you think we would be stressing our brains out if the alternative of "just fun" were easily attainable?

I'm thankful for a husband who is a super hero and let's me go through these awful days without hating me for how frequent they can be. He still tries to make me laugh and encourages me to get it together without being a jerk about it. I'm lucky for that and about a thousand other things. I don't say that enough.

The reproduction game, however, is clearly not one of my skills. Keeping my head on straight while dealing with this stuff is not in my wheelhouse no matter how hard I try. I'm exhausted physically and mentally, and I am starting to dread the thought of pee sticks and more months and the uncertainty of it all. I hate calendars and weeks and thinking ahead to end up right where started. There should just be a test you take where if you get a high score, you get a baby. I'm great at tests and preparations and planning. I'm terrible at the rest of this crap.

It all keeps coming back to the thing that my dad used to say to me when I was a kid: "Life's unfair." It infuriated me then for different reasons. Then, it was the unjustifiable imbalance in a world that I hadn't earned my place in. Now, I feel like the place I want doesn't exist. It's like I'm wasting my life fighting my way into a world that doesn't want me. 

Sigh.

As always, it's hip to be square, kids.


Popular Posts