There are two things weighing on my mind this Friday morning:
1) I am still waiting for my period. There are no signs that it’s even on its way. I’m not spotting or cramping and my temp is still up, though it did drop slightly today. I took my last progesterone pill on January 14. Usually the flow begins 2-5 days later, sometimes 7. The longest ever was 10 days, never 11. So that makes this officially the longest a withdrawal bleed has ever taken to start, and it’s odd, annoying, and frustrating. I am ready. I yearn to move forward. This whole standing still business is really getting to me. I’m losing patience. I want as many opportunities to try this year as possible because 2013 could very well be it for us, one way or another. But I I know I can’t control this, so I’m trying not to melt down into a full-fledged freakout. Breathe in, breathe out…
2) My sister’s shower is tomorrow. I will be taking a three-hour road trip (one way) to go to this. I am not excited. My husband and daughter are coming along for moral support, but they will go off to a nearby mall to play and I will be alone for the actual festivities. Well, as alone as you can be in a room full of happy, laughing, loud, celebratory women. I don’t know how hard this event will be for me, but I know it won’t be easy. There is a tight thickness in my chest every time I think about it. I want to enjoy it because this is a party to celebrate the impending birth of my niece or nephew (and, as someone who grew up as an only child, need I mention again how much that means to me?), but the heartache and resentment that my sister has caused me still runs like a current beneath my skin. Sometimes I am good at ignoring it and sometimes not so much. I forgive her because I must, but it’s not so easy to forget that she burned me when I needed her the most. Nor is it so easy to forget the general pain of infertility and loss when surrounded by babyness. It will be three hours of bold reminders of what I don’t have but should. To make this day a little bit easier on myself, I have sandwiched it between three hours of fun on the road with my family. We will play my favorite music, eat my favorite snacks, and I’ll read my favorite magazines while my husband drives. I may not enjoy that small chunk of time while I’m celebrating a baby that’s not mine, but I will enjoy every other hour of Saturday. Of that, I am determined.
Also, I made my sister a gift for the shower. I’m not uber-talented at making beautiful hand-quilted blankets (as she is), but I can be crafty in other ways:
It’s a wooden box I painted, distressed, and modge-podged to match the nursery (I hope). They’re doing a jungle theme (and don’t know the gender — hence, the yellows and greens), so I thought it might be nice to keep necessary supplies in it: things like diaper cream, lotion, vaseline, nail clippers. All the precious little baby items that must be corralled, or you risk them taking over your entire house. For the shower, I filled it with a bunch of stuff and wrapped it in cellophane (stating the obvious here since you can see it with your own eyes). A few of the fillers (like the outfit and toy) I bought while in London and the rest came from her registry. And then I finished it off with a homemade gift tag.
I do hope Sis is able to fully appreciate this. Sometimes I think she fails to see how hard I try. And fails to understand what sort of love for and commitment to our relationship that I must have in order to spend hours toiling away at making this amidst my very intense heartache. I keep hoping that something I do will eventually speak to her. Maybe this. Maybe tomorrow.