Today has been a strange day. Today I see how I could be considered strange.
We have been watching the new show "tell me you love me" on HBO this season. There is a woman on the show that struggled getting pregnant. She didn't tell people about it-she kept it to herself. I am quite different than this. I am a very open person-I have tried to learn to contain it in appropriate situations. I am the woman in the fertility office waiting room that strikes up conversations-if you have ever been to a fertility clinic this isn't common. I usually would begin by opening up first.
I wear my emotions on my face. It is torture for me to try to put a face on to people I interact with every day. I feel blessed to have very deep friendships with people both in person and online who get me and accept this about me.
So many women will wait for 12 weeks-my friend who miscarried twice didn't tell her mother she was pregnant until she was 15 weeks. I completely understand the reasoning and protectiveness that goes along with that. I am different. One of my dearest friends will sometimes complain to me about people who readily complain to associates at her work. I always remind her I am that way too. Somehow she can deal with it from me.
So when I get a slight positive on a pregnancy test-the first thing I do is get on the phone. I am a talker. I need to talk things through over and over. I talked to 7 people on the phone about it yesterday and then emailed a bunch more. When my husband got home - he asked me who I told and I replied "everyone". He said did you blog about it. I said no not yet:)
So when I spoke to some of the people I told on the phone today-I noticed that even though they are so close to me-and know me well-they didn't know what to say about the test being negative. I found it so endearing. I mean I have been calling these people about most of the steps in this 5 year journey of focusing on trying to have a baby. It is almost unbelievable-even to me that I could be "ONE OF THEM= someone who gets pregnant by accident-who didn't want to be pregnant". So most of them said "I don't know what to say" and I realized that maybe some of you-my internet buddies feel the same way.
I didn't explain much in the post-mostly because I am so exhausted from doing little business things with every spare moment I have. I am trying to pull back but the drive is so strong.
I love playing with my son, and cooking, and oh so much, but I am running the clock.
I am stretched. Self inflicted, yes, but stretched to the max. Is it good? I don't know-I don't think it is the best, though it is helping me let go of trying to have a baby. It gives me a reason to stop trying so damn hard to do what is biologically normal/expected. It allows me to start feeling productive and fertile again. It is helping erase the years of drain that fertility inflicted upon me. I am a tough boss-I am trying to prove to myself that I am worthy of self love-self acceptance. That I can possibly not go back to teaching and stay home with my son-even if I don't have another baby. The trick-the issue-the challenge, is that at the rate I am pushing is too hard and I desperately need to slow down a little. I am just not sure if I can. The loss in March really really did me in. I am pretty relilient but it came close to being the straw that broke this camels back.
So - in many many ways there is relief that this pregnancy didn't make it out of the starting gate. Having a balanced translocation really pins the odds against me-and I am sick of facing the wrong side of those odds. I need to find my balance again. But the nagging voice of failure can't help but get a few jabs in on my psyche. Once again, biologically, I have failed.