angry mourning

So even though I am still royally cheesed off, I still mourn the loss of a friend I thought I had. Even though I am still hurt, and want nothing to do with her, I still grieve. And even though I still have imaginary arguments with her in my head, I am sad.

At least she's not here today. Reprieve.

And that's all I have to say about that. Already this whole thing is taking much more energy than it should.

And now for something completely different.

It seems that Clomid is doing its job, in many respects. I have a good sized follicle ready to ovulate any second now, as confirmed by an u/s this morning. We'll have a second u/s tomorrow morning, and most likely will do an IUI at that point. I am strangely ambivalent about this. I'm not excited, I'm not dreading it. It is what it is. And even though I have no reason to believe that it won't work – there's no reason it shouldn't work – I have no faith that it will work. Which is not good. Self fulfilling prophecy, anyone? I need to get into a better mindset. I need to believe this will work. I do believe that if I can't get to that point, my body might believe it won't work, and then it won't work. Or something.

I really want it to work.

I'm really sick of this not working.

Again, I find myself simultaneously angry and sad. I am pissed that this has taken so long. I'm steamed that I need help with this. And I grieve. I mourn the children I should have had by now. I cry for my ever empty arms. I think daily about why I want this so much. A book I recently read put it best, when the author said "I long for a vessel of my love to send out into the world." I yearn for a little one to love and love and love, and to see what kind of effect that will have on the world around me.

The other way Clomid is working? I've been in tears on and off all day. No reason, other than I'm about to ovulate, and that's what the Clomid does to me. I'm dropping things – I dropped my iPod three times the other night, after never dropping it ever in the almost two years I've had it. I can't remember things for shit. I'm feeling generally mean when I'm not crying. My body aches, my head is killing me, and I have cramps.

This had better work.

three things

The First Thing
I must learn to be selective in choosing whom to trust. Once a secret is told, it can not be untold. I can only guard my remaining secrets more closely from those who are not as trustworthy as I thought they were.

The Second Thing
Business and Friendship seldom mix well. I learned this in a difficult way in college, and managed to keep the friendship by sacrificing on the business end. It was a good choice, one whose benefits I continue to reap today. However, it is a lesson that I continue to learn. I feel comfortable at work, and fall into the trap of thinking that, because we all work well together and enjoy each other's company while there, I am safe to share parts of my life that are better kept separate from work. Which brings me to...

The Third Thing
I now have the tedious task before me of pulling back, closing doors, building new walls. It is the only way I can protect myself - and it's very clear to me now that I need to protect myself in some environments, for as long as I am there. Which may not be so long as I once thought it might be.

ache

I never dated much before I met DH. I guess I haven't dated much since then, either, but that's not the point.

When I was in college, I watched many many people around me pair up and find their mates. My roommate was one of these people, hooking up with a guy she's now married to and has had three kids with. Shortly after college, more friends ended up getting married. I'd watch this with a deep sense of longing, an ache in my heart. I'd look around and see no prospects, and wonder what it was that they knew that I didn't know, how they were finding these wonderful people to pair up with, when I was still alone.

I felt like my heart was a vessel filled to overflowing, and I needed to find a second vessel to contain what was spilling over. I knew I could love, I *wanted* to love, but there was no one for me to love. It was hardest during the hard times, such as when my grandfather died – my parents clung together, my sister had her boyfriend, and I had several friends who were more than willing to be there for me, but no one who could hold me and kiss me and make me feel safe and secure.

Then my best friend got married, and I met her husband's best friend. It wasn't love at first sight, but it became love, and suddenly that void I felt was gone, filled. I'd found the second vessel, and though neither of us was less alone, somehow we became more together.

The day we got married, I thought to myself, "I will never feel that void again. I will never again have to face that ache of loneliness and longing for someone else to help me contain all this love I have inside, ready to give."

I was wrong.

My husband and I are still very much in love, very happily married, and have finally reached a point where we're both working in stable jobs, neither of us is going to school, we have a home and a wonderful life together. But there's something missing. Our family is incomplete.

And that ache is back. That feeling like something is missing, that almost desperate search to fill the emptiness that has once again found a corner of my heart in which to dwell.

This is the start of a brand new cycle for me. It is the end of our chances to try to conceive naturally. This cycle I will start taking medication to help me ovulate, and then for the rest of the year the drugs become more powerful, and the process becomes much scarier. The number of doctor's appointments increases, we will learn how to mix and administer medication through shots, our hopes will rise and fall in the few seconds between the phone ringing and the voice on the other side saying "I'm sorry, but…" And when this year ends, if we are not still not pregnant, we will begin the process of gathering the thousands of dollars we will need to pursue IVF. DH wants us to take time and save up – I am willing to beg, borrow, and steal to get what we need.

But we're not there yet. This cycle, it's just five nights of a little white pill, a few ultrasounds, and one minor outpatient procedure. And yet I dread it, I dread it all.

I don't have to do this. I know that. But this desire for a child pierces my chest and consumes me. I must keep moving forward, I must find deeper and deeper reserves of strength, I must exhaust all my options before I can accept that it over, and we must find another way to grow my family.

Because only one thing is certain to me at this point – I will not give up, I will not stop, I will not live out the rest of my life without knowing what it is to be a mother. I will raise a child, and I will know the joy and heartache that comes with it.

*wince*

Cramps. *wince*

Hot tea. *ahhh*

Note: At least the migraine hasn't made an appearance today.

changes

Opposable thumbs rock.

That, and they took down that sign on the way to San Diego. You know the one, with the family running and the little girl flying through the air as her mom holds her hand? I blame Carlos Mencia.

At least the San Onofree boobs are still there. Though, I think I'd prefer it wasn't a nuclear plant. Radioactive Breasts – sounds like an evil superpower. I'd rather have an invisible jet.

being good to me

There is another conference that's been here for the beginning of this week. Siggraph. It's kind of like my two worlds colliding, and I felt a small pang of -- Oh I don't know, it wasn't quite sadness and it wasn't quite jealousy but it was a little of both mixed with nostalgia and relief -- as I watched the designers with their conference name badges and swag bags going down one hall, while I went down the opposite hall. Was a time I'd have been here for that conference instead of this one, and it's a very strange feeling.

I wouldn't go back for anything, but I do miss parts of that life every once in a while.

But then, the book we went through today was the one for which I did most of the drawings and artwork. And the instructor knows, because he wrote it and was the one sending me revisions, and the lady sitting next to me informed him of who I was. So again, two worlds colliding, and I'm so glad I'm in this one now.

I'm halfway through my week, and I'm finally relaxing into it. Sunday ended up being nice, relaxing. Ordered room service, which I've never done before, so that was exciting.

I was going to bring some cloves with me, but a few things got in the way. First, I couldn't find any. I tried two different liquor stores and a drug store, then gave up. I figured I'd find some around here, but haven't. Second, my chest still feels congested from my URI, tight and sore when I cough, so smoking is probably a really stupid idea anyway, even if it weren't for my high bp and IF issues.

Mostly, though? This week is supposed to be about being good to myself, and indulging in such blatantly self-destructive behaviour is not "being good to myself." Monday night I hooked up with a lady who was a little on the large-personality side, and we hit happy hour at the pool. I got wasted, completely and totally shit-faced. To the point that when I came back to my room to shower and change for dinner, I ended up crashing on my bed. I woke up enough to leave her a message so she wouldn't worry about me, but for about two hours I was just trying to keep the room from spinning, and if I'd gotten up to go downstairs I'd probably have passed out, hurled, or both.

And it got the need to just do something stupid out of my system. In a relatively safe environment. And I haven't felt the need to drink too much or smoke at all since. I had a Guinness with dinner tonight, and that's about all I have the desire for.

The weather here is so nice, and my room is so secluded, that I've been sleeping with the sliding door to my balcony wide open. It's been like sleeping outside at the beach, as I listen to the waves crash below and the wind blow through the palm trees. There's even a waterfall down by the pool, which is just under my window. It would be terribly romantic if DH was here, but even without him it just feels almost shamefully luxurious. And it makes waking up in the morning so much more pleasant.

So I'm finding it easier to be good to Me. I'm in my room now at quarter to nine, ready to put on my jammies, turn out the lights, and watch an episode or two of Doctor Who that I burned to my laptop before I left. I've made a couple of sock creatures, I've read a bit, I had a lovely bubble bath by candle light last night. Tomorrow night I have a massage scheduled for after our class, then some of us are getting dressed and heading to the Gaslamp Quarter to see what's happening. Really, it's not a bad way to spend a week.

room with a view

I'm in San Diego. My room is fabulous - I'm on the top floor and have a killer view of the Marina. It's a little bit lonely tonight, since I don't know any of the other people in my class and won't meet them until tomorrow morning.

I had a momentary pity party, feeling all lonely and sorry for myself, but I'm doing my damnedest to snap out of it. I've been looking forward to this for weeks! I'm here, away from the everyday routine, and while it would be nice if DH was with me, it will be nice to have some time just for Me.

So I've cracked open a can of Guinness (I know, but the bottles don't fit in my travel fridge, and the hotel room doesn't have a mini fridge). I have my cheese, summer sausage, and crackers. There's a pool party going on downstairs and at least they've stopped the club music and started playing good stuff. My view is SPECTACULAR.

I have my books, a couple of projects, and a pocket full of cash. I can go sit in the bar downstairs, or by the pool reading a book. I can make a sock monster.

The bummer is I have to pay for internet service - $5 for 30 minutes, or $12 for 24 hours. It's a five star hotel, and there's no internet service? WTF?

I'm taking it as a sign that I should take a break from my message boards.

Also, my pretty fertility bracelet that a friend made for me snapped on my way out the door, having gotten caught between the door jamb and my suitcase. Beads scattered everywhere. I was so upset, but again, I'm taking it as a sign. No TTC thoughts this week. No stressing about IF. This is a week for Me, to relax, to focus on my career, to unwind and truly take a break.

And I'm sure I'll meet new people tomorrow. I'm guessing some of us will head out to dinner together, and I won't feel too lonely for long. I truly only get a few hours all to myself. I'm going to enjoy it while I can!

downward progression

I seem to have gone from not having the energy to take good care of myself, to indulging in some downright self-destructive behaviour.

God, I really need to get away.

retreat

Is there a difference between mental illness and a "disorder?" Just curious.

I am so eager for this week to be over. My car has been acting up, and I've been without for most of the week. And while it's very nice to carpool to work with DH, I did miss having my little green Mitsubishi, my kickin' new stereo system, and my freedom to roam at lunch. But it's back now, and it's all good, and it didn't cost me an arm and a leg to get it fixed. Thank God for honest mechanics.

I leave Sunday for a training seminar. I am taking an exam in September for my certification, and this week long class is a prep course. The exam consists of a four-hour written exam on the nine textbooks and 31 codes, guidelines, and practices, and a four-hour hand-drafting exam demonstrating the drawing and presentation standards. Heavy stuff, and I haven't even started studying or preparing, so this will be a week of intensive immersion. Five days of class from 8am to 5pm.

And even though it's out of town, and DH isn't coming with me, and I won't know anyone there, I am very much looking forward to it. I'm going to work my ass off preparing for a test like I haven't prepared since I took my SATs, but I will be in a different city and away from my every day life.

I plan to treat it like a personal retreat. I have a hotel room all to myself, and have already confirmed that it has a bath tub and a coffee maker. I will bring my own coffee and fixin's, so I don't spend a fortune on hotel coffee. I'm bringing my bubble bath and candles. I'm bringing a bottle of red wine and several cans of Guinness, some fine cheese and crackers, and perhaps some fruit. I have the new Harry Potter Book, a stack of Doctor Who DVDs, and my iPod. I'll bring my swimsuit so I can enjoy the pool and hot tub. I'm thinking of booking a massage in the hotel spa.

Truth is, I have as much of a need for next week on a personal level as I do a professional one. My well has run dry, I'm running on empty, there's nothing left in the bank. However you want to put it, I'm tired and exhausted, I'm burned out and have nothing left to give. Not that I've had a whole lot to give lately anyway, but what there has been is now gone. And a week of doing nothing but what I want, for Me, without distractions and obligations and doctor's appointments and deadlines sounds really really good.

And so I make this pledge to myself:

• I will not think about my fertility signs or charting at all.
• I will work hard to learn all I can in preparation for my exam.
• I will take time for myself, to relax and remember what it's like to just be.
• I will not call in to work every day just to see how it's going while I'm gone.
• I will not feel obligated to mingle and hang out with others who are there for the conference,
• but I will be open to meeting new people and perhaps forging new friendships.
• I will go to bed early.
• I will take at least an hour every night to just do something I enjoy, such as reading or watching TV or getting a massage or sitting outside with a good cup of coffee.
• I might even smoke a few cloves, and I won't feel guilty about it.

I'm sure more will come to me. The point is, I'm looking forward to a week away, and I hope to come back a more relaxed, less stressed, happier and nicer version of Me.