Well, like many of my fellow bloggers, I like lists. I like need-to-do lists, not-to-do lists, hope-to-do lists, and I’ll-never-do-in-a-million-years lists. I like to list my favorite movies, books, songs, foods. I often create lists like My Top 10 Favorite Places in the World and What I Would Do if I Won the Lottery. I’m not kidding…I really do that. I like lists! And bullet points!! (But is that beside the point?)
So today, I present you with a rather random list of what’s been on my mind this past weekend in TTC-land:
1. Our next baby. I think of this baby all the time. All. The. Time. I walk through the mall and imagine once again pushing a baby carriage with me. I ponder names for this baby. I tell my Cupcake what a good big sister she’ll be, but only because she can’t yet understand what I mean. I imagine the ways that I’ll change the nursery. I make lists (oh yes, I do!) of what I’ll need to buy for another baby, things I’ll need to do to prepare for his arrival, and ways in which I want to change my parenting if I’m ever given another chance to do so. I touch my belly, as though there is already a life growing inside there. And sometimes, I mourn for this baby because there is a part of me that already feels that I may lose him too and never bring him home. But at other times, I celebrate our next baby because in that moment I believe he is already on his way to us and that he’ll be conceived soon, and perhaps even be in my arms by this time next year. But mostly, I just long for this baby because the honest-to-God truth is that I don’t know what the future holds, or when I’ll conceive, or even if I’ll ever have more than one child.
2. Moodiness. I admit that I have not been on my best behavior lately. I’m cranky at least 50% of the time. I lose my patience with the world, my Honey and Cupcake included, a lot faster these days. And when I’m under immense stress, when I’m just trying to keep afloat because I’m drowning in a sea of sadness and grief and despair, I feel like I can’t handle anything else successfully. On Saturday, we went to McDonald’s. I love their French fries. And I know what you’re thinking: You’re on a diet, eh? But please know that I only had a small order and they were all part of the 1500 calories I had allotted myself that day and they tasted really, really good. But one of the reasons we go there so often is because my daughter loves their oatmeal. Yes, Mama has fries and Baby has oatmeal. It’s perfect! But have you ever tried taking a one-year-old to Mickey D’s on a Saturday at noon? It’s annoyingly crowded. And not a high chair in sight. In fact, we went to three McDonald’s in search of a high chair because there was no way I was letting my Cupcake eat that oatmeal sitting at a booth where she could pour it into her lap…or just decide she didn’t want to eat at all and then throw a fit because she wanted to run around and I wouldn’t let her. So by the third McD, we were all starved and I was feeling desperate. And when there wasn’t a highchair available at this one either and I knew there was not another McDonald’s within a ten mile radius, I broke down and cried. Right there in the middle of McDonald’s with the cashier staring at me like I had lost my mind and saying “Can I take your order?” without even a hint of any sympathy for my plight. But that’s what happens these days. It doesn’t take much for me to lose it, whether it’s crying wherever I am when the moment strikes or slamming my laptop repeatedly against the table, as I did just a couple weeks ago. Don’t judge. I’m not proud.
3. Bloody CM. It’s very weird. Of the past four days in which I have checked my cervical mucus, because even though we aren’t quite yet back to TTC I can’t help myself because it’s fascinating and oh-so-fun, two of the days there has been some blood in my CM. What could this mean? I know the cervix can be very sensitive and I could have scratched it, so I’m guessing that’s it, but it’s never happened before in my life and has me wondering if I have something new to worry about. But I’m saying no. I’m just being a hypochondriac. And besides…right now, I just don’t think I have room for any more worry in my brain.
4. Triplets. On Saturday night, I had a dream I was pregnant with triplets. We thought it was twins at first and then it turns out that there was one more in there. And strangely, my mom had a dream in which we had triplet toddlers just a few weeks ago. And my mother-in-law had a dream that we had twins just before my miscarriage. Now, I am a natural skeptic. I don’t believe in psychics or premonitions or anything of that nature. But I do know this: I 100% believed my Cupcake would be a boy, but both my mom and I had pre-conception dreams (separately of course) that I had a girl and, lo and behold, I did. And two weeks before I lost my Teddy Graham, I had a dream that I miscarried and, lo and f*cking behold, I did. I also know this: I don’t want triplets. One baby at a time is enough for me! But at this point, I would fully embrace whatever God gave me. Not that I actually believe He’ll give me triplets. I guess it’s just some wishful-thinking from my subconscious. The brain is a weird thing, isn’t it?
5. Trying again. So we are finally taking our first steps towards trying to conceive again. Ugh and hooray! all at once. Since I am finally convinced that I never ovulated in the last couple weeks, I decided it’s time to start taking progesterone again. Ten days of 10mg of Medroxypr, then we wait for my period to come, then I take Clomid, and then we wait for me to ovulate, and then… Then we wait and see. Or, more likely, we wait a few days and start all over again. Just thinking about the process makes me gag. And it makes me mad and enormously sad. Because I thought I was done with all of this for a couple years, until we were ready for Baby #3. But here it is, June 2012, and we are already trying for #3 because #2 left way, way too soon. It makes me want to punch something. But I’m also relieved and delighted that we’re finally at this point. That our period in purgatory is over and at least I can now do something, even if it’s only swallow a tiny, tiny pill every morning for the next week or so. That’s a start, and is so much better than sitting on the sofa, reading from the big ol’ pile of books that I compiled in the aftermath of my loss, and obsessing. I’m good at obsessing but it gets me no where.
So this turned into one long post. And yes, I realize that lists are typically short and to-the-point by nature. And this one is not. But if you’ll remember, I did warn you that I can be very long-winded. Self-editing is not my strong point!