It's Mine, It Is All Mine

For those of you that read this and don't know, I am funny. For those of you that read this and do know, laugh away. I am most often described as unique and creative and anne (like it was some sort of adjective). I aspire to all three. Sometimes I am down, or sad, or utterly bored or busy, and everything is just blah. It's like viewing the world through a filmy lens and remaining seriously uninterested. This is usually interrupted by some superb new idea that may be feasible and realistic, but just as often, not at all. My life goes by with these inane up and downs and when I come across a stable moment and reflect, I feel trapped on the roller coaster. The thing is, given the opportunity for a consistently mellow existence, I would turn you down in a hot second. There is no way I would give up the highs: perfect days, people that rock my world, orgasms (had to make sure you were still paying attention), even if I am then, by definition required to experience the lows. We all know that hormone manipulating pills do not help the above scenario. So. I can't figure out why I am here. In this funk. This weird not-knowing place.


This past weekend was fun and I needed some fun. Headed home on Friday, went out to the bars with Sister B, her bf, and her friend. I went to meet S and the boys who were already, um, drunk. Fun night was had. No details necessary. What gets me is the relationship with S. I can't explain it to you because I can't explain it to his friends, my friends, our families, or C (who has never really asked, him being entirely non jealous). I could delve into the history and I usually do. I could start telling stories. But I can't explain it to you. I can't even explain it to me. I love the boy. And he is nothing and everything, as in, nothing you should worry your pretty little head about, and everything to me. Somehow I am still unsatisfied with that explanation. Kind of like how I don't want to refer to him either as my friend or my ex, neither captures what he is to me and it bothers me. So I guess that S, you are mine, until the time a super cool girl comes along and claims you. I promise not to pee on you in order to establish ownership. Unless we visit the beach. Because there are jellyfish there. I could tell people that you are my jellyfish.

In/Fertility updates:
*Actually, you'd think at 25, I might not be upfront about all this trouble, and you would be wrong. It was so strange, when all the boys were drunk on Friday, S's boys were hanging out and asked to hear the story of how he broke my heart (yes, they really asked!). I told them the breakup story and S reminded me that I forgot the interesting part, that he dumped me because I never wanted to have children (at age 18). I mentioned to the boys that the irony there was that it was currently proving difficult to get pregnant at all. N, one of the boys, said “I'm sorry.” That's all. And even though he was incredibly drunk, it still meant a lot to me.
*S's sister, pregnant with her second, told me a story of friends that had trouble getting pregnant, finally did with the help of the magic white pills, miscarried, and were now pregnant with twin girls. She mentioned how hard it was to see them miscarry after all they had gone through getting pregnant. And she said that she had faith it would work out for me.
*A long lost hs classmate found me on FB (that's what it is for, right?) and was A. surprised to find me married, B. surprised to find me married to a man (I was known as a bit of a man hater), C. asking me if I knew of any babies because he and his wife are looking to adopt. I said that we were consulting doctors in that department, but if we hit the jackpot and had six or seven babies, he could have two. One or two more are promised to S.
*Had a conversation with Mom as we were headed back here. I told her that my response to anyone asking about when we are planning on having kids is that we would like them and there are doctors involved. I figure that is the best way to either shut them up (TMI), but it also opens a very small door if they would like to ask questions. It seems like the easiest way right now to both invite and close any discussion. Mom mentioned that twins would be fine with her because then there would be one for her to hold and one for my MIL (that tells you how often they are in the same place). Sweet dreams.
*Coworker came into work with her little one today and I got to hold her. To the fates, God, whoever is listening, I promise that I could do it – the mom thing. She was so precious. I sometimes need that reminder because I disassociate babies from pregnancy and pregnancy from babies. It's because of this strange duality of our problem: am I infertile or do I get pregnant and miscarry? Or, both? Because I'm not getting pregnant right now, but I did. I am assuming that we won't know the answer until I am pregnant again. There isn't a fear of getting pregnant, I am afraid that I won't be able to get pregnant, or that when I do, I'll miscarry again. A giant fear is wrapped up in the time it has taken us to get pregnant since the first miscarriage. You know?


Drat, it got way too deep. Was not my intention. Will conclude with the image (be creative in your minds) of me: brown hair, brown eyes, pale with freckles, in a black cotton/silk floaty poofy dress. I feel much better, you?