FET Time – CD 1. Ramblings. Stupid People.

My ability to be productive is pretty unimpressive lately.  Focusing is rough.  Breathing is rough.  It’s like I’m constantly trying to figure out the best strategy for life.  I so badly need to begin just living in the moment and forget about strategies.  If only it worked like that.

A new cycle has begun.  Thus, I’m just waiting for the clinic to get me my baseline orders for ultrasounds and labs yet again.  I’m assuming it’ll be Monday.  That makes the most sense.  Yet, I’m hesitant to schedule until they send me my orders.  My luck it’ll be on Tuesday if I schedule.  So, I’m just impatiently waiting.  Hopefully, my numbers are perfect for baselines and we can proceed with a transfer under ideal conditions.  Praying for sure.  I need things to be “right” for once.  I need this embryo to stick around for me to love her forever.  So, here we are, hurry up and wait.  Should this baby or babies – stick around and be healthy – We’ll be looking at an early April baby.  YAY.  That would be fun.  Spring babies are fabulous.

In the meantime – I need to focus on “self care”.  Her goes July – Self Care.  Ugh.  Sleeping.  Relaxing.  No stress.  No crying.  No hating.  Fun activities.  Exercise.  Healthier food.  Skipping medications I don’t HAVE to take.  I can do it.  The food will be the hardest.  Other than that, I need to “just be”.  Nothing crazy.  Nothing strenuous.  Nothing hurtful.  Lets hope the rest of the world can comply with that.

We booked a hotel room for his class reunion.  We’re going.  It’ll be good.  I somewhat feel like it may be the make it or break it weekend of life.  But hey, we’re being positive right?  No fighting.  I’m honestly moving far beyond fighting.  It’s a battle, but I’m figuring it out.  I’m figuring out what’s important to me and what isn’t.  Sometimes, somethings, make me angry – when it’s so stupid.  I’m learning to not react if it doesn’t matter.  That’s progress in itself.  Working through all the past trauma has been… rough?  That’s putting it – nicely.  So, maybe I’ve been a little “crazier” than I needed to be.  However, he still has things to figure out to.  It’s not all me.  It’s part me, part him, part the misery of IVF.  Combined – it isn’t perfect.  Yet, I know it can be great if we both try.  Great relationships do take work.  So, I’m going to continue forward at this point.  Praying, hoping for the best.  Figuring out how to proceed.  Figuring out what page we’re on when it comes to continuing with IVF.

The reunion is August.  So, I’ve got some time.  We’ll know by then if either of these embryos worked.  Hopefully, she/they did and I can be a DD and just happily, barely pregnant.  If not, it’ll be a good month to unwind, regroup and be ready for the last transfer in September.  The hotel has a gorgeous lake view. It’s connected to the reunion venue so easy travel and I can go to sleep whenever if I want.  Plus, we can walk to the fairgrounds for the county fair.  I’m actually kind of excited.  Praying I’ll be knocked up for it, but excited either way.

Limiting my exposure to stupid people is on the list of things to fix my happiness and my soul for the best chance of transfer.  Yet, lately, stupid people are attracted to me.

What have I been blessed with twice in the last week?  My ex-mother-in-law of course.  It’s like she “knows” that it’s the date I filed.  Literally.  Down to the day, she was conveniently parked outside my house at 5 p.m. to drop off A’s sunglasses.  Which don’t matter.  Then she tells me that the ex showed her the picture of A’s private pilot license day.  Awesome.  I am well aware A sends him pictures and they’re in touch, I wouldn’t expect less.  I didn’t expect him to pick sides.  I’d never want my kids to pick sides.  So, I just tell her that’s great – Then something along the lines of “he sure raised him right”.  HE raised him right?  Really?  Okay, yeah, sure, whatever.  Yeah, he helped raise a well-rounded child… He also helped to raise a trauma exposed child who grew up experiencing severe domestic violence, alcoholism and drug addiction of serious drugs.  He doesn’t get that much credit.  He gets credit for the bad.  Maybe a little of the good.  He taught those children what not to be.  I taught those children what they should have never accepted.  I regret every moment of it.  I regret not leaving sooner.  I did them no favors staying.  None.

Then she calls yesterday – Why? To know what I make an hour waiting tables, because she has a friend that tips too much and she wants her to know what I make hourly so she knows she doesn’t have to tip $8.  Ummmm, okay?  I make minimum wage.  See, I knew you did – And that’s enough per hour, tips are just extra.  Uhhhh? Really?  Thanks for giving me information so my friend is informed and knows my $3 is enough and she doesn’t need to do more than that.  Seriously?  I kindly added in, that for the record – 20% is pretty much the new normal for decent service.  I tip far more for amazing service.  Servers do rely on tips to pay their bills.  And quite honestly, those that tip well AND are polite – I remember every last detail of what they like the next time they come in.  Those that tip $1 or $3 standard – they get basic service as they deserve, but I don’t worry about remembering specifics as I know they will ALWAYS leave me $3.  Then she corrects herself and says she always does 20% herself…. Yeah you do – Dumbass just gave me $3 the other day.  So, lie to someone else.  In the end, it felt like she really just called to throw in some kicks – remind me I work 2 jobs to support myself – and I don’t deserve to really get tips as I did choose this.  Thanks lady!  Have a wonderful day.  I feel like when her own kids don’t want to play with her she picks me for her “fun” games to feel better about herself.

Randomly – I didn’t choose to end up divorced.  I didn’t choose to have to work two jobs to support myself and maintain my beautiful home and life.  I didn’t choose for my ex-husband to be an alcoholic who couldn’t quit drinking.  I didn’t choose for my ex-husband to return to doing meth.  I didn’t choose for my ex-husband to buy a boat while my child was nearly dying and facing permanent amputation should he live.  I didn’t choose for my ex-husband to say, “I am more important than those kids and you need to worry about me FIRST.” just a day after getting home from the PICU.  I didn’t choose for him to drain all the money the day I said I was leaving.  I didn’t choose for him to ever hit me.  I didn’t choose for him to scream at me for hours.

Honestly, I didn’t choose any of that.  I allowed it.  I accepted it. I let it happen when I shouldn’t have.  But, I didn’t choose for it to turn out this way.  The only thing I chose was to stay too long, to put MY kids through too much, to allow myself to become very emotionally damaged over those years.  So, fuck off lady.  Go point out to your son the amazing choices he’s made and the amazing ways you’ve enabled his shitty behavior.

The moral of this… Yeah, I need to avoid THESE specific types of people for July.  They don’t make me happy.  That is what I’m going to CHOOSE to do.

That’s it.