I worry. I’m a worrier. There it is. Now you know. I’m not up to let’s-get-the-Xanax level of worrier but I’ve been close. This may be a bit of a surprise to everyone. I think I try to cover up my issues with a happy face most of the time. Then again you could be sitting there thinking Who’s she fooling? And there’s another thing for me to worry about… how well I’ve hidden this from everyone.
I worry about bills, the weather, money, work, friends, my hair, and the car to list a few common themes. Some of these things have kept me up at night. Now my newest subject of worry concern. Conception. We’ve been trying for a year now. Nothing crazy. No phone calls telling R that he needs to be home by 7 so we can fool around. Just the normal first steps. Plotting my cycle and locating the most likely days that nature will work in our favor.
Ok it’s been about a month since I wrote those words. Nothing significant has happened. A few more steps have been taken. Like a doctor was consulted, blood was taken, as were some pretty trippy internal pics of yours truly. Samples of all kinds donated all in the name of science. So far everything looks fine. Adoptive parents have even been consulted (although that is a step far from us still).
I really have to send out a ton of thanks to my support. My family. Not just the crazy people that have to be related by blood but the crazier ones that choose to be around me. My urban family if you will. You know who you all are. In the times of my almost complete inability to hold it all together you have saved me from hiding in my closet rocking back and forth all the while mumbling something only I can understand.
It is really frustrating to be the ones that were responsible in making sure we didn’t have a child when we weren’t ready. Unlike just about EVERYONE I see around me. You know the ones, they barely even notice their offspring playing in the parking lots around the speeding cars. I really wonder sometimes how long it would take one of these people to notice that one of their brood (usually numbering between three and four children) if they went missing. Or my favorite, the ones that appear to think that their children are fashion accessories. Last year was tiny dogs now it’s tiny tots.
Yet, here we are. Still responsible and trying desperately to have one of our own little petri dishes. To no avail… it’s been over a year of trying. If we had known it would take this long why spend so much time and money on trying to prevent having a kid? Nature’s cruel trick. Oh well, enter the prowess of the scientific community to combat this little trick I say. (famous last words of a woman with octuplets I believe). At least Oprah would build us a house we could only dream of I guess. See?… silver lining after all.
We’ll keep you posted on any changes on the baby front. Maybe we could adopt the rainbow like all of the celebrities… hmmm. Maybe not.