Because I am olde schoole, I have a paper calendar. For those of you who have never seen such a thing, it's like the calendar on your phone, but made of paper. (You can find out what paper is here.) Of course I use electronic calendars too, but it's nice to have a hard backup in case there's no internet. Anyway, I get an academic insert for my Filofax, meaning it starts in August. So I just got my 2010-2011 insert, which is always a happy moment for an organization and tidiness nut like me. Out, out, ye old grubby insert! When I put in the shiny new one, one of the things I do is mark people's birthdays, which requires going through the old calendar. This year, the process really highlighted the prominence of my attempts to get pregnant. All those discretely marked cycle days, all those appointments...all those subtextual DISappointments.
It's wonderful to be able to put all those days aside and start with a nice, clean slate. But I don't have any illusions about what this year's calendar will contain. However irritating it may be to you guys that I don't have any real hope for myself, I don't. I anticipate another year's worth of fighting the good fight. But I am at least ready to fight again. I guess. Since I must.
Now that I think about it, the poem from which my title comes is full of great lines for IF, if you sort of squint and ignore the exact source of his grief. I myself am off to depart and ponder whilst driving 3 hours to Other Ohio City, to pay an exciting visit to Mr. Bunny's sister and mother. NEVER FEAR! You'll get to hear more about that soon.