(or In Which I Write About the Baby Thing Whilst Sipping Pinot Noir)
Cause I can do that now, you know. Sip wine. Cause I’m neither pregnant nor, for once, even possibly pregnant. This is both refreshing and irksome. I am on a break, and yet I don’t even know how to take a break after all this time. Sure, there were cycles we didn’t try for various reasons, but there was always a plan for the next month or the next medicine or the next procedure. Now I have no immediate plan. Except for not to have a plan for awhile. Which I don’t know how to do.
Lately I have had some distractions, like a trip out of town and a sick kitty. So I haven’t really been focused on it, but it is still in there, that thing in the middle of my brain that all the other thoughts try to run past really fast with their eyes down, lest the abyss look into them.
It reminds me that it is still there periodically. When I feel inexplicably pissed while simultaneously clicking “Like” on the weekly belly pics on FB, or when I can’t help but blurt out “Oh, what the f*ck” when I see someone has added an image to their “Baby [Last Name]” board on Pint.ere.st.
I’m reminded when I think about bills I need to pay, and re-remember that we are out of moolah right now for this pursuit. When I see the foster-to-adopt paperwork sitting around and I avert my gaze real quick to try to avoid feeling guilty about not finishing it. When thinking about that exam with Specialist Guy keeps me up at night.
I am thinking I should use this time to focus on all the other things I have ignored while on this bullshit journey to apparently nowhere. And I’ve done that some. But I keep bumping into that damn elephant.