2010

Adios.

Bon voyage.

Goodbye.

And good riddance.

2010 began with what I thought (at the time) was the worst possible thing that could happen.  Clearly, it wasn't, and things soon spiraled into even deeper depths of misery and sorrow.

2010 has been a year of incredible highs (we're moving! we got a house! we're pregnant!) and incredible lows (I'm leaving.  We're gonna lose the house.  We've lost the baby -- again.)

I'm thinking that, above all else, I'd like 2011 to bring me some NORMALCY for a change.  Is that too much to ask?  Less drama, more calm?

It may be.  Christmas was far from perfect (though Mo did his best to make it so.  He did arrive home (though late) in time to wrap a gazillion presents, all of which were carefully thought out and, well, perfect.  It's the most care and attention he's paid to gift-giving in, well, ever.)  My sister made it clear (in her judgemental fashion) that Mo wasn't welcome at her house (even going so far as refusing to buy him a gift, even BEFORE the Christmas Eve drama occured)...so, he skipped the family Christmas, which was both weird and awkward.  But our Christmas was actually very nice, and very grown-up, with presents and dinner and our trying our damndest not to compare THIS Christmas to the last one.

I have a lot to be thankful for.  I do.  I'm home, with family close by, who love and care about me.  I've gotten to watch my niece grow from a plump little infant to a walking, talking, real-live little person.  My husband, while he's fallen a time or two, continues to make major efforts to repair the damage from the last eight years. I no longer wake up at night to an empty bed and wonder where he is -- he is always there.  While for many of you that seems like a "duh!" statement -- for us, it's huge.

He is trying.

And so, for now, so am I.

I know so many of you can't understand that.

I don't know if I understand it completely.

What I do know is that my hopes for 2011 are very different than my hopes for 2010.  I'm wishing for peace, for quiet, for a calm that I can sense is just on the horizon.  I don't know if/when a baby fits into that plan. For the first time in, well, EVER, it's not the most pressing thing.  Sure, it's there -- there's that big birthday looming after all.  But, for the first time in ten years, I feel like it just may not be the death sentence (of my fertility anyway) that I once feared.  I am trying oh-so-hard to just BREATHE, and to focus on the things that are going RIGHT.

A year ago, I couldn't imagine being where I am right now.  But here I am -- forever changed, in ways I never expected.

2010-- you were a harsh mistress. May your successor be just a wee bit more kind.

My Husband Is Missing (UPDATED)

..and I don't mean that in a cutesy, look-what-amazing-thing-he-just-did-for-me way.  He is, quite literally, off the grid.  He left late on Monday night to go visit a very close friend of his in another state, and to meet this guy's son (long story there, of which I don't really wish to rehash right now).

ANYWAY.

So, he promised to be home in time for Christmas Eve.  I spoke with him Wednesday and he said he was coming home in the morning.

I spoke to him Thursday afternoon and he said he was coming home after Friend and Son got out of the movie they were currently watching.

I spoke to him Thursday night after he "woke up" from his nap at 11:30 p.m.  We argued (duh!), but he said he was getting in the car and coming home (Friend lives 6 hours away).

It is now just after 2 p.m. on Friday, and neither Mo nor Friend will answer the phone or return my calls or texts.  Clearly, Mo will not be making it home in time for the festivities of Christmas Eve (which begin in just a few short hours).  The question remains: will he make it home for Christmas at all?  Will he even bother to call?

I don't know -- and that, in itself, speaks volumes, doesn't it?

Merry Fuckin' Christmas, ya'll.

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In the way that posting about it makes things happen, Mo texted me shortly after this went up and let me know he was alive.  He told me he drove halfway last night, got tired, and stopped and got a room.  He was supposedly going to get on the road and head home.

I say "supposedly" because I really don't know what to believe.  I have no way of knowing where he is or if he's telling me the truth.  He refuses to talk to me on the phone because "he doesn't want to fight."  He texted me to ask me to go pick up the ring he got me for Christmas (which he won't make it home in time to pick up).  When I refused, he stopped responding to my texts.  So, now at least I know he's okay...but I have no idea if he's heading home, or still with Friend, or if he even cares to make it home at all.

I have such a bad, bad feeling about this.  I mean, how do you recover from this kind of fight -- on Christmas, no less?  I've told him that if he misses Christmas, that's it.  There's no way to come back from that.

And then, in the midst of my tears, I asked my mom what kind of a man does this.

One who wants out, she replies.

Ouch.

Yeah.

It's been that kind of year.

Staying Busy

Retail therapy, thou art wonderful.  I've been keeping myself busy, busy, busy buying out the stores -- and if I could, I'd buy a baby to fill this hole in my heart.

As it is, I'm just going to have to put on my happy face, try my damndest to ignore the plethora of insensitive fertile word vomit that seems to be spewing from people's mouths these days, and try to forget that on this day last year I was the happiest woman on earth.

I'd pour myself a nice, tall glass of eggnog in remembrance of what wasn't to be -- but I'm trying to set a good example.

Sigh.

Infertile AND sober.  What a helluva way to spend Christmas.

Limbo

I haven't been posting much because, really, I just don't know what to say. Everything remains in a sort of limbo of the worst possible kind.  Am I happily married or seeking divorce?  It depends on the day, and sometimes the hour.  The only thing I am sure of these days is that my quest for a family just seems farther and farther out of reach.

We've made it through some dreaded dates already this month -- passing both our IVF retrieval and transfer anniversaries.  I only cried a little -- but that doesn't mean that it hurt any less.  I was just SO SURE that this Christmas was going to be different.  And it is -- just not in the way I had hoped.

I've still got about a month to go, with three more major milestones to pass: the day we found out we were pregnant for the first time (after 7 years!), the day I lost that pregnancy, and the EDD for pregnancy #2.  All within a three-week time frame.

We've also passed the one-year anniversary of Mo's grandfather's passing.  And our own 8-year wedding anniversary.  What do you get for someone who alternately demands a divorce and then swears they'll do anything to make it work?

We've been too busy to schedule a meeting with a therapist just yet, but it's a top to do next week when I'm off.  And, though I know you all mean well, please don't flood me with comments about how that's essential.  I know it is.  But that doesn't mean I'm looking forward to it, or that I want to be reminded that my marriage is in shambles AND I'm unable to have children.  Only one whammy at a time, okay?  And December/January remain the months to mourn my babies.  I can only handle so much grief at once.

And I AM handling it.  I'm working, I'm spending time with my family, I'm going on as though life is normal.  I've made huge strides from the early months of 2010.  And maybe, just maybe, after January 14th I'll be able to put some of this behind me.

Or not.  That's the hardest part, I think -- being unable to decide what it is that is going to make me happy.  Is it building a family with Mo?  Is that even a possiblity?  Is it striking out on my own and pursuing single parenthood?  Will that net me what I really want -- or just create more heartbreak?

I've got so many regrets already (and I'm not even 30!).  I think that I am so terrified of making more mistakes that I'm finding it impossible to do much of anything, for fear that I will regret it later.  I feel immobilized, stuck.  It's as though all possible doors have been slammed shut in my face (and locked from the outside)!  Where's that damn window, already?  The one that's supposed to open when all the doors have been shut?

I had such high hopes for 2010 -- and look how that turned out for me.  Perhaps the secret is to have no expectations whatsoever?  If that's the case, then maybe 2011 will turn out to be a banner year.

A girl can dream, can't she?