Do you ever forget what it’s all for?
Lately I’ve been feeling strangely detached about the whole baby thing. The notion of an actual child has become extremely remote and abstract. I still hate pregnant women (not you guys, of course, regular pregnant women), but there’s a kind of weariness to it. I still find it unpleasant to be around BFB’s baby, but not in any visceral way, more in the way that I don’t enjoy attending boring meetings. I still want the whole pregnancy-birth-motherhood package, but not with the same desperation–more in the way I want to get tenure or finish saving my yard from that incredibly invasive weed that’s sprung up everywhere. You know, long term projects that I can’t do much about at the moment. I’m not sure what’s up. It could be the months of waiting behind me or the months of waiting ahead of me, or some combination of the two. I might be exhausted from all the hoping and disappointment. Or I might be trying to distance myself from the whole situation, to make the waiting easier or to protect myself from the despair I’ll feel when I don’t get that miraculous Instant Pregnancy (just add…well, not exactly water) in August. Maybe I’m realizing that even if I do get solidly, safely pregnant, my life will still have its imperfections. I wasn’t a sunny person before this, and I won’t be after, even if things go my way. Maybe these drugs are just blunting my emotions. I dunno. Anyone else go through periods where it’s an effort to remember what it is you’re even working towards?
Recovery notes for Gurlee: For the past few days I’ve been down to one oxy + 600 mg ibuprofen combos in the morning, one around 2 pm and one before I go to bed. Still no real pain to speak of. Today I skipped my morning oxy (just took the ibuprofen) and waked to work (about a mile). I will probably put in a couple hours of low key catching up stuff.