Left Behind

3 Dec

I’m used to feeling left behind.  My friends started having babies so long ago that I’ve grown used to the fact that I’m the last childless person in my circle of friends.  When I started trying, my sister-in-law was single.  In the time that I’ve been trying to start a family, she met a guy, got engaged, got married and has had two children.  Younger coworkers who weren’t engaged when I met them are married and pregnant or have already given birth. I’ve been left in the dust.

I found solace in my support group though and met so many women who were in my position.  Lately, though, I’ve been feeling left behind there too.  There are so many new people in the group, it almost feels sad to keep going and to keep telling my story to these women who are just starting Clomid. Meanwhile, the women I started out with are thinking about child number two.

You’re not supposed to compare yourself to other people, right?  Don’t a million pins on Pinterest say that?  But how? We spend our entire lives being compared to other people.  You spend your school life being graded and ranked with your other classmates.  Classes are graded on curves. You’re separated out into different classes based on your talents. Then, all of a sudden, you’re supposed to stop. You’re supposed to stop caring about where your life is in comparison to your peers.  I understand that stopping the comparisons would probably make me happier but it’s a lot easier said than done.

I don’t live my life in a bubble.  I wish I could sometimes.  Instead I live in a world when I encounter other people getting the thing I most want all the time.  It feels inevitable to compare myself to them and to feel left behind.

Waiting

24 Nov

What is there to say about waiting?  Very little it would seem.

Some days I forget that I’m waiting at all.  It feels as though this is my life now and always will be.  I go to work, I eat, I see friends and family and I sleep.  This is my life.  I’m 35. I have no children.  This is how it will be. There is little to nothing to say about that.

Some days all I can think about is the fact that I am waiting. I long for a child of my own. I can’t walk two steps without being confronted by my infertility. Pregnant women in Target. Ultrasound photos on Facebook.  A little girl on a train platform playing “I Spy” tells her mom that she spies ” a mommy” while looking right at me.  That little girl can’t imagine that a woman my age wouldn’t be a mommy.  I want to tell her she’s right.  I am a mommy. I don’t, though.  You can’t just go up to a little girl and tell her all about your dead baby.  I’m pretty sure that’s the type of thing that jeopardizes adoptions.  So, it would appear there’s little to say about that, too.

Most days, if I was honest and sat down to type out my thoughts, all I would type is: baby, baby, baby, please God, send me a baby. Over and over and over again.

I have no idea what kind of wait we are in for.  Is the mother of my child even pregnant yet?  There is no way to know. Will it happen in a week, a month, a year, maybe more?  There is no way to tell.

Will it even happen?  There is no guarantee.  People say there is with adoption but I know better.  There are no guarantees in this life.  I can hope for a happy ending but there is no guarantee of one. I hear happy stories but I hear sad and scary ones too.  I hear stories that break my heart and make me fear the pain that could be ahead.

Still, we hope.  We hope for the happy ending.  We hope for peace during the wait. We do so quietly, because most days it feels like there’s very little to be said about that.

News

5 Aug

The bad news is that I’m an awful awful blogger.

The good news is that we are officially on the books.

Progress

9 Jul

After discovering the typo, I had a panic attack.  It was 4th of July weekend and there was no way that any progress was going to be made until Monday.  I felt awful.  This was MY fault.  I approved that proof.  I can rant and rave about things that are out of my control but this was fully in my control.

I tried to read the profile on Friday and found another typo which sent me into a spiral.  We decided to wait until Saturday or Sunday to read through the book again because knew that nothing would get done until Monday anyway.  The best laid plans…

Somehow the rearrangement of our family room took over our entire weekend.  We have always hated the way our family is arranged so we decided to rearrange the furniture.  It’s not ideal now (the couch is too big in the spot we moved it to  so we’re in the market for a smaller one) but it’s a better set up.  No one has to contort their neck to watch tv anymore which I thought was a vast improvement.  I was wrong. Once moved, the couch was too far away from the tv and it was too much eye strain (or so I was told).  We needed a larger tv!

Luckily, the one my husband wanted was on sale about 45 minutes away from our home.  Unfortunately, we drive Corollas so there was no way the tv was going to fit in either of our cars.  We had to rent a cargo van from UHaul, drive to the store, buy the tv, drive home, drop the tv off, and then drop the UHaul off.  Once said tv was purchased, we realized that we would need a bigger tv stand. Off to Ikea!  It was one hour til closing so we zipped through and found something we liked.  When we got down to the warehouse, one piece was missing.  We were told it would be in stock the next day.

So the next day, we drove back to Ikea and picked up the missing part and a few other things we didn’t have time to grab the day.  We ran some other errands and by the time we got home it was around 4:00 or 4:30.  The tv stand that the guy at Ikea swore we could put together in five minutes took considerably longer than that to assemble.  Then we had to unattach ALL our electronics so that we could thread them through the freshly drilled holes in the tv stand and reattach them all.  Then we realized that our surround sound box thingy (that’s the technical term) was too big for the stand.  Luckily we bought a stand with doors on the two ends but an open middle piece so it’s okay that it’s hanging out a bit.  The system is pretty old and on the fritz anyway so let’s just add that to the list of things we need to purchase now.  By the time we were done, we were exhausted and ready to go to bed and it was Sunday night.  Oops.

So basically deciding on a whim that we were going to rearrange our family room turned into a weekend where time disappeared into a black hole and necessitated the purchase of a new tv and stand and is prompting the purchase of a new couch and surround sound system.  I’m still not sure how that happened.

Yesterday, we managed to give it another read through and found two more typos.  A friend read through it as well. She commented that it was much harder to proofread than a document since there were so many colors and fonts.  It’s eye-catching overall but distracting if you’re trying to proofread and read every single word carefully. That made me feel better about missing the things that I missed.   The typos have been corrected and now we’re waiting to hear how much the printing will cost and how much the shipping will be (expedited if it’s not too expensive).  So we’re making progress. Took a detour into tv land, but making progress.

 

Typo

4 Jul

Our profile book is done.  It was printed and delivered two days ago.  I showed it to some friends last night and everyone oohed and aahed.  And then someone found a typo.

Ugh.

I read that thing cover to cover ten times before I approved it to go to print. I read it in my head. I read it out loud. I read it slowly sounding out each word to make sure it was spelled correctly.   I sent that thing to so many people.  They found all sorts of other errors but not this one.  Another friend said she had looked at that exact sentence before because she really liked it and she never noticed.

Our instead of out.

An “r” instead of a “t” is all it took for me to go from happy to anxious.

I thought on July 8th, I would be dropping of my profiles to the agency.  I thought that was the day we would go on the books.

Now I have to read through the whole damn thing again.  I have to ask other people to read it again.  I have to make sure there are no other typos. I have to ask our wonderful designer to reprint that page.  I have to wait for delivery of that page and then we can send our profile in.

I’m so angry and upset with myself.  This could have been done already.  Monday, it could have been out of my hands.  Instead, on Monday I’ll still be focusing on this.

How did I miss it? How did everyone miss it?  When I look at the page now, it is ALL I see.  I can’t take my eyes off of it, it’s so glaringly obvious.  I checked the drafts.  It was wrong in the last TWO drafts.  So went through two rounds of edits missing it.

I’m so disappointed.  I know that a few days won’t make a difference but I just thought this was the end and now it’s not.

Real Life

11 Jun

One day, toward the end of a conversation I was having with the painter David Salle in his studio, on White Street, he looked at me and said, “Has this every happened to you? Have you ever thought that your real life hasn’t begun yet?”

“I think I know what you mean.”

“You know–soon. Soon you’ll start your real life.”

–Janet Malcolm, “Forty-One False Starts”

This.  This is my life.  I don’t even know what I can add to this.

Found on The Happiness Project blog.

Awkward!

10 Jun

Do you ever have just an unbelievably awkward experience where your brain just totally fails you?

I tried to walk into the bathroom at work.  This particular door swings into the bathroom to open.  There was a woman walking out at the same time.   She stepped back, which I took to be an indication that she was letting me in before exiting.  I was a little startled since I had just done that thing where you start to push in on the door and all of a sudden, it flies open much faster than you expect because someone else is pulling it.  But you have no idea that someone else is pulling it because your brain hasn’t made the connection yet and so you’re shocked that you are so powerful as to push the door wide open with so little exertion.

So, I realize that she is stepping back to let me in and I start to walk forward.  It’s too late though because she took my startled hesitation as a sign that I was waiting for her to step out.  So we’re both walking towards each other.  We pause, step back and then step forward again at the same time.  Except this time I don’t pause after that second step forward.  Something in my brain disconnects and I process the part where she steps back but not the part where she steps forward.  So we are both walking forward pretty much about the slam into each other.  She stops and I keep plowing forward.  She looked a little shocked and I said, “oh my gosh, excuse me.”  BUT I KEPT WALKING FORWARD.  So I pretty much ran this lady over, apologized while doing it and KEPT GOING.

It’s like my brain stopped working entirely.  I lost all sense of decorum.  No, wait.  I didn’t lose all sense of decorum.  I knew enough to apologize for what I was doing.  I just didn’t know enough to stop doing it.  She made a comment where she apologized like it was her fault.  I got the sense though that she was saying it in the way where you say, “Oh, excuse me” to someone who is being rude and you want to point it out to them in a passive-aggressive way.  I can’t really fault her for that.  I didn’t really need it pointed it out to me, though.  I knew I was being rude.  I just couldn’t stop my body.

I’m so grateful no one else was in the bathroom once I finally got in there.  Since I promptly walked into a stall, closed the door and said out loud, “What the fuck was that?” and then started laughing hysterically at my own stupidity.

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