Wow, posting two days in a row. Must be something on my mind!
Actually, I’ll keep this short. I’m already over this last stupid cycle. Well, not over it, but I’ve accepted it. I just want my period to start officially and be over already to get started on the next round. But in no way, shape, or form am I telling myself that this time might be “the one”. No, thinking like that cycle after cycle is nothing but a disappointment. I’m just going to go through the motions and see what happens.
Jenn over at The Future Fords made a really good point in her latest post; something that has been on my mind myself. It seems like everyone is getting pregnant, and since my blog is less than a year old, I just figured this kind of thing comes in waves. Apparently not. Jenn also noticed, and while both she and I are nothing but happy for all of you, especially considering the trouble you have gone through to get to this point, I am definitely a bit jealous. Not only that, but I do wonder what I’m going to do when all my blogging friends get pregnant and I still don’t. Do I need to expand my blogging horizons? I will continue to read about you all, of course, because I am interested in your stories. But once you enter your second trimester, you just start to be in a different place, and I totally understand. I guess what I’m saying is – it’s lonely out there in blogger world. It’s lonely in real life, too. It’s very hard to talk about the most frustrating thing in my life with people who are experiencing the greatest joy. And I’m starting to get sick of talking about my hardships, because they have been carrying on a damn long time.
I have a real life frustration of the day to share with you, as well. I shouldn’t be venting about other pregnant people because I feel bad, but at the same time, I simply have to let it out.
My coworker is pregnant, about 20 weeks. She’s very nice and sweet and really doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. I am happy for her. That said, I am watching her grow every day. I am watching her discuss every aspect of this child with every person who asks about it (which is basically everyone BUT me…I’m awful and she probably hates me). I am watching her consider ever so carefully what she eats, and what she does, and she wonders aloud whether doing or eating any such thing might be bad for the baby.
Worst of all, she recently announced to her class that she is pregnant, as she is starting to show and these 11 year old’s are mighty observant. Apparently, when she told her class, they all clapped. Now, the word has spread and my students, my awesome students of whom I wish were my personal children, are super excited about it. They can’t stop talking about it, including to me. “Did you hear ____ is having a baby?” “Oh my gosh, did you know….” etc, etc. Yes, children, I did know. And yes, I go ahead and fake this happy smile. Yuck. I’m also of child-bearing age. I want so badly for this wonderful class to celebrate with me, my pregnancy. How wonderful that would be. Of course, that’s not going to happen with this group of children. Does this all sound immature and childish? Yes, it does. But I can’t even deny it – I’m just pissed off and bitter. So very bitter.
I do want a baby. Obviously, I want that more than literally anything else in this world. But what I really, deep-down truly want, is to be knee-deep in being a mom. I want to skip all the worry and stress of this journey, and have a couple of elementary-age children in my house, now. I want to be a soccer mom (hence the name), braving the rain on a Saturday morning with my coffee and my husband as we watch my kids play, I want to go to baseball games and band concerts. I want to have tears in my eyes because our children might demonstrate talents that make their parents proud. I want to volunteer for the PTO, become friends with my kids’ teachers. I want to ring the damn dinner bell when it’s time to call in the kids for dinner; they need to help set the table. For whatever reason, these things, of all things, make me the most upset right now. Not even the failed cycle. It’s this incredible deep-down, painfully strong desire to be a mom, and to exercise my mommy-ing abilities. I think I’ll be a damn good one. I try it out on my students, and they fit the bill perfectly.
Of course, thinking about how very far from now those moments will be is daunting. I’m looking at – a good 7 or 8 years, at least. At least. When those days come, though, and I’m rushing through the house trying to prepare dinner, shuttling my kids off to piano lessons and dance class, I feel like I will be able to put this whole ordeal behind me and really, truly enjoy life. Until then, I think I’m just going through the motions.