I cried a little anyway. Ironically, as I gazed out the window in an effort to compose myself, one of summer's last bumble bees was buzzing around. I heard the distinct smack as it flew into the window pane. Then again. Then again. "That's silly," I thought to myself, "why would you keep flying into the same spot after being (painfully) rejected 3 times?" I half giggled, until I realized that the bee was not the only one hitting the same obstacle over and over again. We've flown into the window several more times than the bee, each time the feeling the sting a little deeper.
ahhhhhhh this sucks and I hate it.
So P90x it is for a little while. We leave for Disney in 113 days, so that gives me plenty of time to tone up and look svelte for the hot February sun. I will look the sexiest I have ever been. I will research the book I want to write. I will drink beer. Maybe I'll finally start piano lessons again or pick up a camera or something. We still have so much to do with the house. As I looked around last night, I saw all of the projects I've been putting off because I wanted to be pregnant. There were things I wanted to do before all of this began. Maybe this is my sign to do them.
I'm going to try not to be low and melancholy about it all. This month is a tough one for me, as I've said about a million times before. Part of me thinks I always knew that this month would not be it. I'm sad, but not broken. I just need a break from this. I need to find a new doctor, one who maybe monitors patients on clomid instead of just writing a script and wishing them luck. I need to settle into my new job and work out a new schedule. I need to let go of some of the grief I am carrying around. None of that can be very conducive to making a baby.
Mr. Joe is not really on board with my break idea, so I will continue to chart (sorta) and we will still have sex. Not that we wouldn't have sex anyway, I guess what I meant was that he'll be timing sex. I won't because I will be too busy enjoying all of the new hobbies I will be taking on. And Tony Horton!! I'll be enjoying my boyfriend Tony Horton again.
I know I can't just turn off the baby brain I have. It will be there until I'm holding a baby (one that belongs to me, not just any old baby) in my arms. I'm pretty sure that once I beef up my fat hammy arms, I'll be able to push it to the back of my mind at least.
So. Be prepared for non-ttc dribble and other nonsense. Or be prepared to ignore me for a few weeks or months.
Just please tell me we'll still be friends and you won't all board the baby train and ride off into the sunset without me.