I think the potent swirling vortex of stressors in my life is eating at me lately. It seems like all the negativity is stacking up around me and I'm having trouble finding my way out. This is a time of year when we are supposed to be full of Holiday gratitude and cheer, able to bounce from one silly gathering to another. I mostly just want to sleep.
We are pushing 18 months of TTC. I have made absolutely zero appointments to attempt to decipher why the timeline is so off this time. A year ago, Jer was diagnosed with a varicocele. We had been trying for a few months, but didn't overthink the urologist's casual statements about potential infertility. Because we've gotten pregnant a few times before this. So we likely know what is happening here. But I'm terrified. And resentful of the plethora of 24-year old nurses at work with un-scarred uteri who robustly debate when the "perfect" time to have a baby is at 3 in the morning when I can't escape. I mean, "We don't know if we should redecorate our house or backpack through Europe before we become parents." But I digress. So we probably know what is happening here. And it could be reversible. Or it could be me. It's not like 3 previous csections is a good warm-up for a fourth pregnancy. I'm terrified that a doctor will look at us and tell us to stop trying. I'm jealous of my infertile sister-in-law who has options and a fresh uterus. Oh, and doesn't work so will probably be a better parent right out of the gate. I'm angry. I've always had trouble staying pregnant. It just feels so unfair that now we have trouble getting pregnant.
Work certainly isn't helping. The commute is dragging on me. I hate the constant juggle of work schedules and childcare. I feel like I'm always there instead of at home with my kiddos. I'm tired of night shifts. And there's been a particularly depressing batch of patients lately. Suicides. Murders. Horrifying terminal diagnoses. It weighs on you to sit with a patient for hours who doesn't know her husband is dead. It weighs on you to care for a 34 year old woman and her husband while they wait to find out if she has a brain tumor. I have a job that weighs on me, and sometimes I can't leave those things behind when I clock out at the end of the shift. The other day I saw a job listing on the bulletin board at the post office for a post office desk clerk. Part time, flexible hours, good benefits. The job paid 4 dollars an hour less than my current wage. I mean...I deal with very sad and disgusting things for a living. If I didn't have student loan debt, I'd be tempted to trade jobs.
We have been house-hunting and I really want to buy. We are in great financial shape to buy, which is such a victory for us. But. We live in a tiny, isolated town that is 100% dependent on a non-renewable resource that is currently under great political debate. If the jobs go, the entire town dies. The job my husband has could not be replaced with anything within probably 500 to 1000 miles of the area we live in now. If it could be replaced at all. It's intimidating to be trying to buy a house for the first time, when the town may be gone in 5 years. Or less. I have barely gotten used to small-town living so I think the odds of us wanting to live in a ghost town are pretty low. Not to mention the homes in the area would be worth nothing so we couldn't sell if we tried. So...we wait and see what happens over the next few months.
My grown-up way of coping with this? Besides over-eating and worrying, of course. I booked a trip to Vegas. Jerry and I have never taken a trip together without the kiddos. I may need medicated to actually get on the plane, but whatever it takes, right? Kiddos are staying with grandparents. And I'm told Vegas has alcohol. We leave in three weeks.
I have six days off for Christmas. After the flurry of ballet recitals, Christmas programs, holiday shopping and (often unnecessary) gatherings, I am really looking forward to cozying up with my little family. In my natural element, I'm a bit of a grinch who probably wouldn't bother with most of the holiday decorating and baking and wrapping. But the kiddos...they are so excited. And at 8, Roo loves the repetition of the holiday traditions we've started. T-Bug just loves all the Christmas stuff that's going on right now. I'm so blessed to have them. I'm so blessed to be happily married.
I hope you all have a lovely Holiday season, where the joys triumph over the struggles.
