Random Acts

To whomever may be listening

To God, gods, goddesses

Angels, Saints, Prophets

Any forces of the universe or nature

Whomever may lend a cosmic ear

I beg of you

Let this be the time for us

Deliver us from this heart-wrenching quest for fertility

and into the perilous roads of parenthood.

I’m three months in and it’s already been a rough ride.  I feel like it’s getting worse and I don’t know if it’s because it’s wearing off or I’m just tired of fighting it.  Both are probably true.  The hot flashes are getting worse and my nights have been nothing but sleepless, it seems.  I get into bed absolutely freezing, so I cover up with the down comforter…then I’m hot and sweating profusely, so I throw it off…then I’m freezing again.  I usually end up with my feet under the blanked and the rest of me uncovered and naked.  I can’t deal with clothes as much as I try to with FC in the house.  My temper has been nearly uncontrollable.  I can keep my mouth shut, usually, but the emotions are boiling rapidly.  Never have I so desperately missed smoking.  Everything has been either enraging me or sending me into a fit of tears…and I usually try to block out the latter with anger because nobody likes a blubbering idiot.  Nobody likes a bitch, either, but I’d rather be that girl than a Becky.

Last night I tried to busy myself with dinner when I got home.  Cooking usually calms me and red wine takes me the extra mile.  All it seemed to do last night was give me indigestion.  I feel like a stranger in my own kitchen with FC doing the dishes.  I like that she’s doing them, but I hate when I can’t find anything…or when my favorite knife is in the dishwasher despite how many times I’ve said it should never be…or when my favorite spatula with the wooden handle ends up in there as well.  Who puts wood in the fucking dishwasher?  These are little, petty things that would normally roll off my back but, instead they make me want to break out a bat and beat everyone in a five mile radius.  I tried to drown everything out as I hyperfocused on spaghetti and meat sauce, but I couldn’t help hearing the commotion over the picture my pregnant sister-in-law sent of herself.  They were going crazy over how big she is and blah blah blah…and I just don’t want to hear it.  I don’t want to be that girl, but I can’t help it…and I don’t understand how fruitpie can be so okay about all of this.  How is it that it absolutely breaks my heart to see babies and pregnant women and even toddlers lately?  I feel like I can’t say anything, either, because she’ll think I’m feeling like this because I’ve given up on us or that I don’t want her to get pregnant.  Of course I want her to get pregnant.  I want a baby, why wouldn’t I want her to get pregnant?  I wish I could help it…I wish I could just get the fuck over it.  I guess the act of being pregnant just meant more to me than it should have.  I’m still mourning the loss of that dream and I can’t just let it go.  I can’t help feeling a sense of anger or pain when I see other people with something I want so much and will never be able to physically provide…especially when it’s someone who got it without trying.

She asked me if I wanted to see her sister as I was going to change my clothes.  I was having a hotflash and finally could step away from the food for a few minutes.  I stood by the door to the bedroom trying to think of what I was supposed to say.  I assumed that the answer was supposed to be yes, but I really, truly have no desire to see how pregnant she looks.  I know she’s pregnant.  I know the baby is due soon.  I don’t care to see her belly.  But, what do you say?  I was going through all the possibilities in my head.  If I said yes, how am I supposed to react?  Am I supposed to make a sizeable commotion about how big she is as well?  If I told the truth and said no, would I come off as a raging bitch?  Should I take the passive agressive route and say ‘Later’ since I was busy cooking?  Instead I said, “I have to take off my pants” and disappeared into the bedroom.  One of the dogs had ended up shitting in there at some point, and I was the tiniest bit relieved at the distraction of going outside and scolding the suspected culprit.  Does this all make me a horrible person?

I’ve been having really bad headaches lately.  They come and go, but I’ve been going through at least a couple excedrin a day.  It’s another side effect…along with the mood swings, hot flashes, night sweats and depression I’ve been putting up with.  I guess it’s just one more thing that’s making me cranky.  I’m really not suitable for human interaction.  I can’t even stand myself.  I try to drown myself out with loud music and complicated database programming.  I was blasting an old Alanis album on the way home for lunch and ended up bawling through half the ride.  It was over nothing.  I had glanced in the car next to me at a stop light and there was a little girl who looked just like I did when I was four.  She was playing with something and talking to the people in the front seat…and the tears started coming uncontrollably and inexplicably.  I wasn’t even thinking anything.  I was just trying to drown it all out.  I feel like I’m losing my mind.  What do you do when the highest dose of antidepressants is no longer enough to keep you sane?

It’s kind of strange how all this prop 8 stuff brought everyone out of the woodwork after we lost.  I admit that I got more involved because of the campaign, but I at least started doing what I could before the vote was out.  Now it’s too late and it looks like steam is being lost.  The rallies right after the election were full of people making their voices heard.  In the weeks that have passed and with the ever encroaching holidays, it seems things have gone back to the way they were before.  We have gone back to our lives and retreated to lick our wounds.

The march yesterday was not much of a success, although everyone was remaining optimistic.  About 70 people showed up and they even waited at the first corner for a half hour for more to come.  When we got to the corner by the rally point, there were some Yes on 8 people across the street with their signs.  ‘You lost, get over it’…’Losers, go home’…’The LORD has spoken’.  It’s hard not to engage with them, but we all held back.  Instead, I lost my voice chanting ‘Gay, straight, black, white: Marriage is a civil Right’.  I got a few people joined in with me, but mostly is was fruitless.  By the time we got to the pond, it was cold and windy and I think we all just wanted to go home.

I think I set my recovery back a few days with this ear infection.  I had a cotton ball shoved into my ear the whole time, but it still feels as awful now as it did before.  I should have just stayed home, but I’m glad I at least showed my support.    For the first such march in this valley’s history, I guess 70 people is a good start.