I Don't Do Anything

Its true, I don't really do anything. Since being laid off in May, I haven't really made an effort to look for another job, and technically we are not in a position where I have to seriously start looking for work. I'm very blessed, because I don't need the added anxiety that certain jobs (of the Customer Service variety) can bring.

I'm not complaining. I like the freedom that I have right now. I try to do the best with the time that I have at home, with cleaning or writing (or sitting in front of the TV trying to unlock as many characters as I can from my Harry Potter Lego game).

The only time I get self conscious about my employment status or lack thereof, is when I'm meeting new people, or when I'm suddenly thrust on stage with my husband at a graduation dinner thingy at his school with twelve other couples all of whom are doing something way more significant than taking care of two cats and playing Harry Potter Lego. That is when I start to over analyze my current stay at home housewife status.

I know things would be different if we had kids, because I'd be a stay at home mom taking care of kids as opposed to cats (because really, cats can take care of themselves), and people would hardly give me a hard time about it. (And even if they did, I wouldn't care because they're my kids and also being someone who was practically raised in childcare from the tender age of 18months old - I'd want my kids at home). So again the added attention to me in regards to "what I do" (or don't do) is a bit unnerving and at times can be embarrassing.

I didn't speak at this panel, answer questions or even introduce myself. I just sat next to Michael looking pretty (at least I can do that well :) )

Personally, I think its because of the added expectation that I put on myself that I should be doing something, when really I'd rather stay at home.

And I know I can change this if I wanted to, but its only about 10% of the time that I feel this sense of inadequacy (which is really only about twice a year).

I guess to solve a bit of this problem would be to start on the book I set out to write last June. It would give me something to talk about when I'm asked "What do you do?" or "Oh, you're a writer. What do you write about?"

So to answer the question that was asked of me as part of a panel last Friday that I chickened out of,

"What do you do?"

To be honest, I don't do much of anything. I read, I blog, I play with my cats.

"What do you love to do?"

I love being with my husband and supporting him at events such as these. I enjoy hanging out with my friends and talking and having coffee with college students whenever I can.

Doing the Math

I hate math. I've always hated math, which is why my degree is in Creative Writing. When I was in college and getting ready to transfer to University I needed one math class to tranfer. I picked the lowest math class I could find that would still give me the proper units to transfer, that class - College Algebra. It really wasn't all that complicated, but for me it was torture. I ended up having to take the class twice, but with the right professor and the use of the best invention ever - the graphing calculator, I passed and was able to transfer to finish my education.

Ask me if I've had to use anything from that math class in my daily life? I'll tell you no, but I think I've had to use some of it - like when I had to half a dose of Brav.elle back when Michael and I were doing treatment (so embarrassing, the nurse had to explain it twice and even draw a picture for me to understand - its been 2 1/2 years and I still can't remember what she said).

What I especially hate is when my brain does math of its own free will. Its slightly disconcerting, but it happens all the time - remembering important dates, less important dates, happy events, and also tragic events.

With happy events and important dates its fun to add to the years of your wedding anniversay, or the day you met your husband. Its fun to reflect on those times and share with each other where the years have taken you.

With tragic events its different. Who wants to calculate the years, months, weeks of something bad that happen? No one, but our brain does it anyway.

On Mondays mornings I spend a few hours with my friend L. On most days I'm with her when she takes her youngest to Tiny Tots, and on some of those days we will see our friend D, who's youngest is also in Tiny Tots.

My brain started doing math again without me prompting it to, reminding me that had our pregnancy in February 2008 not been an ectopic, I too would be joining my friends in taking our child to Tiny Tots. This wasn't a big surprise. I've always known that our first child would be close to the same age as J (L's youngest), but its usually just a passing thought. It wasn't until I allowed myself to really recognized the loss of our child for what it was, meant the loss of other things, little things, like playdates, child birthday parties, friendships.

Well after this my brain wouldn't stop doing the math, it kept calculating and tallying numbers of loss dates and sad anniversaries I've had cataloged in my brain since we started this journey. I'd like to forget them, but I can't forget. Its simple math - addition and subtraction, a basic skill we are taught in elementary school that stays with us forever, and I hate it.

I don't focus too much on these dates in my day-to-day life, but sometimes it can't be helped. Especially when I'm in the middle of a trigger month (as my therapist calls it).

February is a trigger month for me. I hate February. I've hated February for the last 4 years, since the ectopic happened, so its probably fit to reason that my brain will focus on the math of everything we've been through.

So for now I'll count down the days till March, and hope they go by fast.

Lost

No not the TV show (though I probably shouldn't admit that I have only ever watched the first 8 episodes and the series finale), I'm talking about where I'm at right now.

I'm so lost and more than ever I'm struggling with where I fit in the ALI community. Michael and I aren't doing treatment anymore. We are not actively trying (though we are not preventing, but our chances of conceiving on our own are slim). And while we are a family of 2, we are not "officially" a family of 2 yet. Though we are in the waiting stages of DIA, it doesn't feel like we are doing anything.

I don't really know what direction God wants us to take as far as building our family. I know I can ask, but I think part of me is afraid to hear the answer. Because what if the answer is no children. What if the direction is remaining a family of 2.

And I'll admit, part of me is scared that that is where we are headed. ('Scared' might be the wrong word, but I can't think of the right one because I've been crying for the last 2 1/2 hours.) I know that if that was the plan for us, we would be okay. We would be sad, and might have to go back to grief counseling, but we would be okay. And really I don't want to be scared.

We haven't come to making that decision yet, but I know its there. Waiting to be discussed and thought about. Again, I know it wouldn't be a bad thing, because at least it would be an answer and we would know that we had done everything possible to build our family.

I did something stupid today. Something I knew I shouldn't have done. Something I knew that if I did do it, I would be in a horrible state...I looked a dear friend's baby registry. Now I can't stop crying. I just keep thinking about all the things we would have had, and all the experiences we would have been enjoying (and some maybe not so much) had the adoption gone through.

She's 4 months old today, and she's not with me. And instead of caring for her, I'm caring for a 5 mo old kitten with ringworm (not that I'm complaining, he's a sweet little guy, I'm just laying out the perspective).

*headdesk*

I'm just so tired of the waiting and uncertainty that comes with this whole sucky IF journey. I am forever exhausted of fighting to become a mom, but as hard as this fight is - I can't stop until I'm told to stop, and right now I don't feel God telling us to stop. And right now I'm afraid to ask when we should stop.

*double headdesk*

I'll get this figured out eventually, but today my head is pounding.