Ok, So nothing like Good Ol' Jess... Procrastinator. Only this time it isn't entirely my fault. I was sick sick sick! Like sleeping for 20ish hours in a day sick. No joke. I called into work Saturday night. So now I am a little freaked about where my occurances are....eeeek.
At our work we go by occurances and tardies. You get one point towards occurances if calling in on a week day, and a point and a half when calling in on a weekend. As a part-time employee I can have 5. Same with tardies, 5 points you can have and being late up to an hour (or leaving an hour early) equals one point towards tardies.
I called in Thursday and Saturday. That right there my friends = 2.5 occurances. If you get 5 you are "let go" and usually rehired if you are a good employee. BUT you loose seniority and the time you have worked there. Meaning it wouldn't be a year in March, meaning I wouldn't be up to get FMLA if ever necessary. Here is where the stressfulness begins. It all is pending back in January if they got there together and fixed my occurances from the fender bender call in. If that call in got fixed, I should be down 2 in January from the 3.5 they told me I was at. Meaning 1.5, which would put me currently at 4. If they haven't fixed the books from January...add 2. Meaning 6. And me fighting to keep my job. Que stress...NOW!!!
Ok So Monday I have to call our Director of Nursing to make sure it was fixed. And then Call our scheduling lady to make sure my points are adjusted accordingly. Gah!!
Oh and I have just started attempting to study tonight for my massive exam Tuesday. 75 questions. I need to get at least 44 right to pass the class. Nothing like last minute crunch time. This blows. I haven't been getting worse than a 80% on the tests which means I should get about 60 out of 75 right minimum. But we shall see. Que freaking out....NOW!!!
This blows my friends. I so wish I could have been better to study my butt off for this last exam, so I wouldn't feel so behind for this one. I wanted to start studying Saturday night but I called in feeling like shiza (and work was Ca-RAAAAZY Friday night) and today was spent being family day. We went to Brother in Law (Booger) and his family. I spent the afternoon playing babies, cars, and being climbed on by two beautiful girls and their dog Skeeter (who is a great dane and thinks he is a lap dog...cutest thing ever!). Looking forward to meeting my newest niece, whose arrival will be in May.
I would like to mention a comment that stung this weekend. I know he meant nothing by it, but sensitive tired me caught it and couldn't shake it. When playing babies with the girls, one was being left behind and I said, "Oh is Uncle James going to be the baby-sitter? Or do you want me to grab this baby too?" joking around. James replied, "I am definitely not the baby-sitter!" And Booger said, "You might be some day."
Might. We have officially changed over into the might world for those that know our infertility problems. No longer will. That's like saying, "You might be a dad someday." No. He will be a dad one day. Even if the baby doesn't grow in my womb, our baby (or babies!) will have grown in our hearts. And that is all that should matter.
But sometimes, as ashamed of it as I am to admit. I really REALLY would love the both/and story. Pregnancy & Adoption through Foster Care & maybe even international adoption. Best of all worlds. I don't know if I will give up on the possibility of pregnancy. I want to experience it, and experience the joy and wonder when meeting a little being half me and half James for the first time.
And these thoughts...they don't stop to be honest. It goes on and on, like when James said he kind of wonders if a couple of our good friends are pregnant again.
It brought up a good topic between us. The differences between men and women maybe. He said to me, he didn't know if he was just be sensitive and looking for it. But it seemed like she was showing her previous early pregnancy symptoms. I told him that I just expect it, I prepare for it. Because it hurts worse when I am not expecting it. It still hurts when I hear it (or see it on facebook...) but it tends to hurt less when I am anticipating the blow. Like knowing the slap is coming to the other cheek.
He then said something along the lines of, "It isn't like I won't be happy for them, because I will!"
He will, undoubtedly. And it gave us a time to recognize the fact that if and when our next friend comes out with a pregnancy announcement...I will be happy for them, but sad for us. And jealous. Quite green, I will admit it.
Which lead me to another point, I told him it is to the point where I am trying to mentally prepare for my best friend, who isn't even married yet, to announce to me that she is pregnant. Because, I can feel it...it will happen before James and I. By the end of this year I bet. And God is letting me know our first months of IUI probably won't work. But naturally and probably quickly it will for them. And my friends, as much as I would like to say it won't change our friendship...I am afraid it will. I am scared for it.
Because it seems, for me, the longer I am on the road of infertility...it doesn't get easier. It gets harder. The road gets rougher, and I am dreary and worn out from the road behind us. The longer we are on this IF road the more tears seem to appear in relationships all around me (family, friends, with God, with my husband).
I can't say that last comment, Long Term Infertility (over a year, more than a loss) isn't something I would wish on my worst enemy. I can't say I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Because being honest, sometimes in my green little mind I think about women that get pregnant with ease and take it for granted, that choose abortion, that say hurtful things to us infertile women without any emotion, that do drugs when pregnant, sometimes I wish God had granted them the infertility disease and not me. And that is the honest truth.
Judge me if you wish, hateful bitter infertile woman I am I suppose (I've been called it, so it must mean it is true?) but sometimes I feel that way. If I was the one handing out infertility and fertility the world would probably be a very different place. And that is why I am not God. I am Jessica, a daughter of God, an infertile woman angry with God, and sad woman for allowing myself to be stuck in this place with all of these horrid feelings.
