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March 1, 2004
The beginning of the end
All weekend I had insomnia and the usual slew of PMS crap (including a constellation outlined in zits on the right side of my face). When I did sleep all I dreamed about was this cycle failing and meeting with Dr H...over and over again. Oh and also about some guy breaking into my house and shooting me in the face with a rifle (while Fin stepped on a broken green vase). Yes, I do need therapy.
It gets so much worse
Saturday I was pretty down, but Sunday brought the lowest level of depression I've encountered in all the time I've been TTC. Mind you, I'm 99% sure this cycle failed (even had a neg. FRE this morning. Yes, it is early but not that early.). Anyway, I digress. I woke up in a pissy mood on Sunday--I wasn't feeling well on any level and then my sister called. Here is the basic gist of the conversation:
Lisa: Hi, how are you? Any news?
Jen: No, but I'm sure it didn't work. In fact I thought we could all go out drinking on Saturday.
Lisa: long pause. Ummmm, I can't drink.
Jen: Why? (with heart ripped out of chest)
Lisa: I don't know how to tell you this. But I'm PG. I'm so, so sorry. I know how unfair this is and it just totally sucks. (She went on to tell me that she only tried for her husband. She didn't think it would work since she only got AF every 3-4 months and her dr even told her it wasn't likely to. Uh huh. Fine.).
Jen: Congratulations (said in the shakiest pre-bawling voice ever).
Lisa: I know you hate me--I don't blame you. Everything ends up being about me. Lisa, Lisa, Lisa. But at least now we know my body and eggs work so I can help you for sure.
Jen: (sobbing) It's ok--I'm very happy for you (sob, sob, sob). When are you due?
Lisa: September 18--I'm 11 weeks. I didn't know how to tell you and I just told mom. We thought it best to tell you before your beta.
Jen: Ok, thanks (sob, sob, sob)....
So my OLDER sister who never EVER EVER has wanted kids or even liked anyone else's (and my mom and I tried, but can't remember ever even seeing her hold one) is PG. The freak of the family who has wanted to be a mom since she was like 4 is the infertile one. My sister isn't even excited--she doesn't want a baby--my bil does. I rest my case that there is no justice in the world. Not that I would wish IF on her, but come on God could you cut me a little slack?
Needless to say, I spent the entire day bawling. Poor Chris. I feel guilty for being mad since my sister was so cool about it and just because my life isn't working out as planned doesn't mean hers shouldn't. She has been so compassionate to me and in truth it's good that she's having a baby--now I'll have a niece/nephew to spoil (Chris' nieces don't count since their parents are morons and just piss me off). I told her I can be the cool, crazy cat lady aunt.
My mom called later that day to see how I was--she felt so bad for me. She was shocked by the news (I honestly wasn't--I mean, my sister told me last year that she was having an HSG done. They only do those if you're TTC no matter what lame ass story my sister offered denying that at the time.) But still it hit me like a ton of bricks since I was already in the midst of a breakdown when she called. None of us can imagine my sister as a mom--she's like the anti-mom in all respects. Chris just keeps saying "That poor kid" (I pray it's a boy because she'll eat a girl alive). This is going to be (as my mom put it) very interesting. Then my aunt called my mom (Lisa had called her too) and my mom told her my tale of woe and my aunt responded with "That poor kid, can't anything ever come easy for her?" At least my family feels for me, but in a way that just makes me feel even more freakish.
I'm trying to make the most of this...I mean Lisa has very expensive (and good) taste so she'll buy the best maternity clothes. And her guilt will force her to give them to her poor infertile little sister (she would anyway I'm sure). She already told me how her pants no longer fit (something she is not happy about). Of course mine don't either and all I have to show for it are bruises and flab.
Somehow I think a liter of vodka would make me feel better...wait, let's make that a gallon. Tomorrow is my 31st birthday and all I want to do is sleep the rest of this week away.
Oh and to make matters worse, Tess and Fin attacked each other again (they seem ok now though).
Jen aka the long suffering freak
PS My sister just called and we had a normal conversation. I guess I'm not too far gone after all. ;)
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