Tag: coping
Status

This and That.

Hi folks.

I don’t really have anything groundbreaking to say, or any amazing news to share, but I wanted to at least reach out and let you all know that I’m still here.

Life is good.  I’m spending my weekends farmers’ marketing and cooking yummy foods, and I spent all day yesterday in a 24-hour cheat cycle that included all sorts of sweets and fried foods, and watching a tv show that’s been off the air for ten years and only produced one season.  I love it.  And I’m going to probably cry when it’s over, because I will know that it’s never coming back.

I am obviously a glutton for punishment.

So I have that going for me.

Aside from that, the husband is changing shifts this week, so there will be a whole new level of getting-used-to going on in our house for the next couple of weeks.  He works in the auto industry, and his shift rotates a few times per year.  Prior to this week, he was working a combination of day and night shifts, and working Friday morning through Monday night.

Once the switch takes effect, he will be working Tuesday night through Friday night; it will be nice to have him home Saturday and Sunday, even if he does need to sleep half of Saturday…

The worst part of this particular schedule change, however, is that he will be gone for work when I get home at 5:30pm each day, and won’t be home again until probably 6am or so the next morning while I’m getting ready to leave for work.  This effectively means that four days a week, I won’t see the husband for more than an hour in the early morning while he’s dragging himself in the door, and I’m rushing myself out.

This makes the timing of certain *ahem* intimate activities a little difficult.

It’s not the first time he’s worked this shift, though, so we’ll manage.  Mornings during ovulation might just get a little… interesting.

If ya know what I mean.

And I’m bettin’ ya do.

Hmm… What else is new, you ask?

Not much, to be honest.  I’m just living the dream over here, taking my vitamins and herbs at the required times and in the proper amounts, trying to maintain control over my diet in the face of the new Chick-Fil-A that’s opening up a block from my office, and generally just attempting to stay as relaxed as possible.

There are a few things I’ve been mulling over in my head when I think about how I can remove certain stressors.  I’m not sure what will come of these thoughts, but I know I have some stress triggers, and I know I’ve strayed from some things that I feel might help me cope better.

First is church.  I grew up in the church, and grew away from it as an adult.  Partially because logistically I was far away from where I felt comfortable, and partially because I didn’t have much in the way of in-house support (read: the husband doesn’t want to/often can’t attend services on Sundays).  So these days, I’m not a parishioner, but I’m still a believer.  I have my own spirituality, but sometimes I feel like that’s not enough.  It might be time to start seriously making an effort to get back into the fold… Even if it’s just me.

Next on the list is money.  Money stresses everyone out, but I had some major issues with identity theft years ago, and that junk still pops up to haunt me today.  I’ve been working to resolve as much as possible, but it just takes so much time, and of course that time is almost always required to be during business hours.  When I work.  So, boo.  I think it might be time to crank up the professional help on this bad boy, and get this monkey off my back once and for all.

Another thing my life lacks is time spent in nature.  Maybe I just need to go to a park once in a while, but I just don’t know this area well enough.  Since moving in with the husband, what… seven years ago?  Jeez!  Anyway, since then, I’ve lived in the city or suburbs.  Even now, our house is right smack in the middle of the city, in a nice little subdivision.  We have a yard with a garden, lots of squirrels and birds, but it’s not exactly nature.

I grew up in the woods.  No, seriously.  WOODS.  It was amazing.  I was a weird kid with giant glasses and terminal skinny awkwardness (thank goodness I grew out of ONE of those things…), and I was always building forts and bringing home little forest critters, much to the dismay of my parents I’m sure.  I used to know the woods back home like the back of my hand.  I knew where every mossy rock was, and where wild asparagus grew.  I could climb the creepy overgrown apple trees, and pick my way through the wild raspberry bushes to find my own snacks.  I lived for the time of year when the walnuts fell, both because I loved helping to collect them for grandma’s root cellar, and because I loved the tangy, spicy scent of the green skin that surrounds the nutshell.

I miss nature.  I miss following deer paths and sitting in the sun so quietly that a fox wanders by.  I need to get back to that, somehow.  Maybe nature IS my church.  Maybe I can heal myself in more ways than I know just by getting back to my roots.

Ha, roots… see what I did there?  Nature jokes.  😉

This all leads me back to another thought I’ve had lately.

Therapy.

Do I need therapy?  Maybe.  Maybe not.

I don’t often feel like I do, but maybe it would help me cope better with stress.  I’ve never felt particularly manic or crazed when I’m stressed, and I never feel like it’s something I can’t handle, but then again… maybe I need help.  I am learning that I internalize my stress, which is why I get sick every time I am in a particularly stressful situation.  Like my wedding day… sick all day.  Lovely time, that.

Maybe therapy would help me have a better understanding of what I can do to deal with my stress rather than pushing it down so that it infects my whole system.

Maybe.  We’ll see.

So that’s where I’m at.  Still here, still plodding on with my non-treatment “treatment” of acupuncture and herbs, and still trying to figure out who I am and what I’m doing with my life.

It’s not a terrible place to be, but I certainly hope to find my way out of this maze one day…

 

I hope you all have a fantastic week, and may the coming days bring you some beautiful fall weather!

And cheesecake.  I hope you all also getchasum cheesecake.

Mmmm.

 

 

 

Status

Guilty Pleasures

I’m becoming concerned that I may be the only one who does this one thing… or at least, the only one who’s still trying after

ALL

THIS

TIME

who still does this thing.

It’s sort of embarrassing.

It’s just… my thing.

It’s maybe a normal thing for any of-age woman dreaming of having a family of her own, and totally a normal thing for someone who’s expecting to become pregnant soon.

For a nearly five-years-deep infertile who alternates between hope and hopelessness on a month-to-month basis?

Probably not healthy.

Either way, it’s my thing.

My guilty pleasure.

And I think I should admit it to all of you…

*deep breath*

Here it is:

Every month, regardless of natural, medicated, or completely wonky cycle, I calculate my approximate ovulation date.  Then, once I’ve ovulated, I enter this information into a due date calendar – you know, on the off-chance that I actually do get pregnant – and that’s where the madness starts.

Let’s say I got pregnant this month (hahaha)… My due date would be May 14th; just a hop, skip, and a jump from Mother’s Day!  How sweet is that?

I’d round out the first trimester in early November, which would be an amazing time of year to start sharing with the general public news of our impending bundle of joy.  We’d know the gender by Christmas, and it would make the holidays so special.

I wouldn’t need to make one single New Year’s resolution, because I’d have everything I’ve ever wanted.

I could have maternity photos taken around Easter, and what a cute theme that would be what with all of the eggs and bunnies and baby chicks.  Oh, I can just see it now!

Oh, and don’t forget the pregnancy announcement itself – I would love to have early fall photos taken at the end of September or beginning of October, maybe in a pumpkin patch.  Maybe a graphic designed to announce our “little pumpkin” sent to family and friends, or posted to Facebook… I don’t even care how cheesy that is.

And don’t even get me started on my baby-naming dreams.  I have lists, people.  LISTS.

*sigh*

Almost every month, I allow myself to wallow in these lovely, pastel-colored pipe dreams.  And, without fail, every month those dreams are stomped, deflated, and left for dead until the next ovulation rolls around.

Am I the only one who does this?  Is it a sick fascination brought about by endless hoping for pregnancy and too much time spent on Pinterest?  Is this a subconscious way for me to keep hope alive, or a way for me to escape from the reality of the situation, sticking my head in the proverbial sand?

I have no idea if this is normal, and I have no clue how to stop it – or even if I should stop it.

All I know is that I have these black and white dreams, and every month, I give them color.

Every month that color gets washed away, and I get to start fresh the next month…

Whether that’s healthy or not remains to be seen.

I guess at least I’ll always have a pocketful of creative ideas for my friends and family members who find themselves expecting their own little bundles. 

Oh, you’re having an Easter-time baby shower and need theme ideas?  I’m your girl!

Maybe one day I’ll be able to use one of my grand ideas for myself…

Maybe.

One day.

 

I would never… but still… HAHAHA!

 

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