On Friday my husband left for a two week trip to Vietnam. This week is going to be unpleasant, for reasons I have detailed before. I fear that I will be a genuine crazy person by the time he gets back. You know, hearing voices and carrying a bag of rice around pretending it's my baby. SHHHHHHHH! DON'T WAKE THE BABY! So be prepared to stage an internet intervention if you notice me going off the rails.
My husband's trip is part of a two-year MBA he is almost done with. I can still remember the day he decided to do this program. He'd been accepted and was figuring out whether he actually wanted to do it. He needed to make his mind up as we were about to leave for a conference in England and it would be a pain to send the paperwork in from abroad. It was our first month of trying to get pregnant. He was worried I'd think it was selfish of him or just plain unwise to embark on this plan when we were going to have a baby. We'll work it out, I told him. He ran across the street and dropped his materials in the mailbox. A week later my conference was over and we were doing a bit of traveling. We were in Oxford having dinner after a day of being appalled at the number of tourists clogging the streets ('cause of course we were not mere tourists clogging the streets ourselves) and I was apologizing for being cranky all day. It's just that I can tell I'm not pregnant and I'm weirdly disappointed, I whispered, trying not to horrify the nice couple at the next table. He murmured something comforting that did not comfort me at all. Little did I know how often that scene would be repeated.
A year later, Mr. Bunny suggested that I avoid getting pregnant for a month, because if I did, he wouldn't be able to go on this trip he just departed for. I laughed. If he thought I was going to waste any opportunity to try to get pregnant, he was crazy. And for us, I assured him, perfectly timed intercourse would produce the same result as avoiding getting pregnant. The following month I had my chemical pregnancy and learned that BFB was a few weeks in. Now the trip and BFB's baby have both arrived.
Having bothered to articulate all that, I am now wondering what the point was. Milestones. They suck. This is not news. I guess the following things are emerging from my ruminations:
1) For those of you who have been at this for longer, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine enduring the misery of everything I've been through in my year-and-a-half multiplied by any number at all. Uh, except 1. That I can imagine.
2) I'm still a little stunned that I have to go through this. I think I tend to revisit these events as a way of convincing myself that this is really happening to me. And maybe as a way of explaining to myself why it is that I am SO FUCKING UNHAPPY ALL THE TIME.
Gotta go--Basmati just woke up from her nap.
Hang in there, Bunny! It's such a dark slog; there's nothing wrong with you that you feel sad so much of the time. I do to, and I'm getting kind of sick of myself.
ReplyDeleteI hope it's a short two weeks and that Mr. B brings you back something cool!
Yeah, Jasmine is wanting to be fed. MIlestones do suck. I just passed my one year anniversary of TTC. It just sucks the wind out of you.
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry that your DH is heading off and leaving you and Basmati to fend for yourselves. I will do anything in my power to help you get through this!
Milestones truly do suck. I'm struggling with the big 30 milestone coming up soon. It's a big deal for me, because I told Hubby when we got married at 22 that I wanted to have most of our kids by the time I was 30. Ah, the best laid plans.
ReplyDeleteI used to not be able to fathom not being pregnant or having a baby "a year from now". So many years have passed, that I cannot fathom anything else ever being the reality. Not a great feeling.
Sorry your hubby will be gone for two weeks. We'll do our best to keep you company :).
I know of what you speak. I practically lose the power of speech when the JB goes away. Social skills - have to keep practising them, apparently, or they depart.
ReplyDeleteKeep posting! Will want to know you are still conversational.
I know I know I know. I'm right there with you in crazy town today. Thank GOD for you guys. I can't believe I was doing this without you before. It is a bad day today. For instance, I am crying at work at the moment... never a good sign! But your joke about Basmati made me laugh. :)
ReplyDeleteIt doesn't seem real, does it?
I used to have pretty good cries in my car when driving home from the RE's office...sometimes I just could not believe this was my life. I think that's totally normal (and I'm not just saying that because I did it, although I surely am rationalizing a tad).
ReplyDeleteSpend two weeks scheduling massages, pedicures, rent some chick flicks, or whatever feels most indulgent. A little "you" time. I'm sure Basmati will be fine napping in the pantry.
Nobody can be simultaneously unhappy and witty like you, Bunny. Acknowledging these "anniversaries" is certainly painful, but sometimes cathartic as well. I hope that things look up for you soon. Maybe you could suddenly come down with the swine flu and need to take 2 weeks off work? Like two weeks in Vietnam? There are plenty of rice babies there and lots of cheap, cheap beer. Second to that, JB's suggestion to massage, pedicures and general self-indulgence sounds reasonable.
ReplyDeleteMilestones are the worst. I just read a girl's blog that I found when we did our first IVF. We had our transfers like a day apart. She won, I didn't. Her baby was born a couple weeks ago. That was a good cry for me. I hope one day it's us looking back and being all like, "Remember when we couldn't get pregnant...now look at us with these 5 kids in tow."
ReplyDeleteYup, milestones suck. You do put a funny/witty spin on all your posts though even when you're down. =) I hope you survive these 2 weeks and can enjoy a little bit of being alone. Try to do things that you like doing that maybe your hubby doesn't? And if you feel like you're going crazy post a lot and we'll be here. =)
ReplyDeleteI hate those milestones. And you are in milestone thick country right now. I also hate looking back at Earlier Me and scoffing at how very naive she was. Poor lamb. (I did find myself snort-laughing about the bag of rice, though).
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