Recycling and a Big Fuck You

Sundays are my days to clean. They are also the days I take out the recycling. And when I take out the recycling this time, I realize how many pregnancy test boxes, instructions and ovulation kit pamphlets there are that need to be taken out. And it’s a damn shame, because I have nothing to show for it. I stuffed everything into a cereal box so that they wouldn’t blow away when the recycling men were collecting them, and end up in the doorway of the building next door, where my neighbor I am sure would come over and say “Is this yours?” I’m crazy. I know it. But she is one of those people. She asked me about a friend of mine in the neighborhood that doesn’t work. She was like “Is X having infertility problems?” I almost shitted on myself. She said she assumed that she didn’t work because she wanted to stay home with kids, but since they don’t have kids yet, that maybe she’s having issues. What the hell? Maybe she doesn’t work because her husband is rich as shit. And I wouldn’t go to an office every day if I didn’t have to. So I am sure she’s figured me out. I’m sure of it. I just keep complaining about how my mother-in-law keeps harassing us to have kids, and we’re not ready, to throw her off the trail. I hope it’s working.

I’m obsessing again. My temperature is still quite high, but I haven’t gotten a jump up like some people say they do during early pregnancy. It’s high, but around the same. I’ve been having these pains at the base of my neck on the right side like someone is electrocuting me for 10 seconds at a time. Intense, shooting pains. PinLady said that it could be my brain waking up. Thanks, bitch, I’m awake already. Awake to the fact that my cycle is doing whatever the fuck it wants. And pregnancy “symptoms”? None really. I’m only 10DPO. The wait is killing me. And I can’t tell if my body is making shit up to give me something to obsess about. I fell asleep at 11PM last night. I had to take an hour nap today. I’m congested as shit. And I’ve been thirsty as shit all the time. My appetite is nothing, and I’m having crampy things happening. I’m constipated too, in case you wanted to know. And what sucks is that while all of those could be pregnancy symptoms, they could not be too. They could me that bitch Aunt Flow on her way into town. I could punch her. I’m slowly going back to my old ways. I thought I had snapped out of it, and could be like : “What? Me? I could be pregnant? Yeah, that’s cool. Or whatever if I’m not…” (in my best hipster impersonation). But all my zen is floating away. My desperation is back. I’m tracking and counting and calculating all over again. No matter what I do. I’m taking my temperature 5 times a day, just to see what my waking temperature is versus when I’m laying down. Maybe if it’s high when I’m awake and walking around, it’s high when I’m sleeping too?

Things are tense between my husband and I. I am at it again. He caught me googling “pregnant no symptoms” and “bbt normal for pregnancy” and “acupuncture PCOS” again. Again. I told him, PinLady and you guys that I would stop. But ever since I realized that there is a possibility that we could have caught the egg this time, I am getting crazier. Or maybe this is the PMS, because I’m supposed to start my period if this baby thing doesn’t pan out again. We literally got into a fight over cleaning the sink. He asked me to clean all my dried up toothpaste, mineral powders and false eyelashes from the sink. For some reason that sent me into a screeching fit, where I told him that I’m tired of him criticizing everything that I’m doing, and I’m sick of his shit and that he was an awful husband. He told me “Fuck You.”. I couldn’t believe it. Well, I kind of could, although I’d never tell him this, because I’ve been being a major bitch lately. This PMS, or whatever it is, is making me fuss and cry and get depressed about absolutely nothing. I hate this shit. If I were him, I would have said fuck me too. He listens to all my shit, lets me cry a million times a day, listens over and over and over to me talking about reproductive issues, plan our life around when the baby will be here timelines, and take all the romance out of sex. I forget this is hard on him too. I cleaned the bathroom sink. And cooked.

Meanwhile, plans for my sister-in-law’s baby shower are under way. And it’s going to be a lavish affair, so my mother-in-law can show off how amazing her family is, and how she’s so proud of having a grandchild. All the stops will be pulled. Great. Exactly what I fucking need — to plan all the details of someone else’s baby shower.

I can’t wait for this week to be over so I can know what’s going on with my body next. I’m not in a good place right now. Meditation is on the list for tonight.