Moving on…

7 Feb

…Or at least attempting to. This past month (it’s hard to believe that it’s already been a month) has had its ups and downs. I believe that I have completed my grieving cycle for the loss of my job. That’s not to say that there aren’t days when I wake up and wish I was going back to my old job, but what I have come to realize is that I am better than that. I am better than them. I clearly wasn’t valued there. The bottom line ($$$) was prioritized higher than quality care. But that’s on them, not me. I am moving forward.

I do miss those sweet little babies will all of my heart, however. It’s bittersweet that I am Facebook friends with most of their parents. On one hand, I get to see updates and new pictures. On the other hand, it’s a constant reminder of what I am missing. For instance, my sweet Caroline is now sitting up all on her own. I would love to be able to witness that for myself, but alas, my life is no longer on that same trajectory. It gives me comfort to believe that I was there, when I was there, to do what I need to do. But now that is done. I’m like Mary freakin’ Poppins. Going wherever the wind might take me….

For today, the wind is having me take focus on my own life and concentrate my energy on where my own (potential) babies can fit into my own life. As you know, Mr. T (this is what he has requested I refer to him as from here on out) and I did not get pregnant when we tried in January. Then the lay off happened and it took some time for us to come to terms with what this meant for our lives and for our future. Truth be told, I wasn’t making a whole lot of money to begin with, but it was a paycheck nonetheless. And yet, we have found a way to make things work in “the meantime.”

“The meantime” is what I have come to think of my life. This is where I now live. Neither her nor there, but caught up somewhere in the middle. Moving on from what was, toward something that I am entirely unsure of. Will it be a new job? Will it be a baby? I suppose that only time will tell….

As it stands, our plan is to keep up our attempts at procreation. I just know that this is my calling in life. To be a mom. it feels like parts of my heart that have never been acknowledged are just now awakening to possibility of such a love. Such a purpose in life. And the parts that are damaged and worn thin are waiting with bated breath to experience things that my mind cannot even begin to comprehend. I am not even pregnant and yet, the prospect of such a miracle already has me soaring. This is not to say that I don’t feel a healthy amount of trepidation…but that’s just it. It’s a healthy amount.

I really don’t know how to put it into words. All I know and all I want to convey is that for the first time, in a long time, life doesn’t feel stale. Despite not working everyday. Despite the predictable monotony of my life. Despite the prospect of jumping into something I know absolutely nothing about. I am excited. I am hopeful. And I feel happy. These may seem like simple things, but for me, those emotions don’t always come easy and they certainly don’t stick around for very long when I catch their rare glimpse. But this feels different. And I different is exactly what I need right now.

When I started this journey, I did so because I wanted to document the impact that pregnancy would have on my anxiety disorder. Or vice versa. I’m not even pregnant yet and it has already turned out to be more than I could have ever expected. I have absolutely no control over this process. Whatsoever. And for the first time, I truly believe that this is a good thing for me. Yes, those words came out of my mouth (or my fingers). I am ready for the possibility of the unknown. At least for today, this is where I stand.

After all that, in the interest of full disclosure, I must admit that Mr. T and I made the executive decision to not try to get pregnant for the month of January. He is out of town for 2 very inconvenient weeks. If I had gotten pregnant then I would have found out the day he left for CA. Then I would have had to wait for 2 weeks until he got home. That didn’t sound like very much fun to me.

As you may or may not know, I have this stubbornly romantic streak about me. I picture those two pink lines with my husband my side. I picture excitement and champagne/sparkling cider. Hugs and kisses and tears. And I didn’t want to go through that alone. So, February it is…perhaps a Valentine’s Day baby? Now wouldn’t THAT be romantic????

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