Sunday, October 30, 2011

Seventy-five percent

Thank you very much for your comments. Each and everyone of your comments meant so much to me. As my posts have become more infrequent, I am surprises to get any comments at all. But I should give you more credit than that. You are some of the finest women I know, and I shouldn't be surprised that you are still there, still offering me life giving support. Thank you.

Tomorrow, I start the last week at my job in FTT. I have 5 more reports to write, and will find a way to get those written and signed. I had about 20 to write at the end of September, so I am 75% there.

75% is the theme, this week. I visited my beloved therapist last Wednesday. I was explaining to him that people ask about my new job and want to know if I'm excited. I disappoint them invariably. I am not excited. Mr. A and I are going on vacation next week to a tropical place. Again, people search for my excitement. I just can't deliver. That's not at all how I feel about the job, about the vacation.

75% of your experiences right now have to do with grief, he said.

Yes, that's right. About 75% of what I have is spent managing my grief. Most of the rest is on wrapping up my current job, and all that that entails. He wondered if maybe there was about 3% leftover to think of my next job. And maybe another 1-2% for the vacation. He's good with math, my therapist.

I am lucky to have a job right now, lucky to be going to another job when this one ends. I am lucky to be able to have the money to go on vacation. I am lucky to have a car, a roof over my head, food on the table. I try to hold on to that.

Just don't ask me to feel excited.

I am looking forward to alternating between doing nothing and reading a book on my week off. We are going to one of those all-inclusive resorts. Not really our usual type of vacation. We would typically go canoeing, hiking, cross-country skiing, or visit a big city and walk around until our feet hurt and we've gotten a lay of the land. But we're exhausted. So sitting on a beach and having all of our meals and as many drinks as it's going to take to stop feeling so crappy is what the doctor ordered.

Oh, and I guess having all that time just lazing around will give us a chance to talk. For example, about whether he still wants to have children or not. I was hoping we could do that kind of talking before the vacation so we could enjoy ourselves there, but I'm not sure we'll have the time to do that before. Life keeps going at a furious pace. We are at a standstill with that issue. I know that we need to talk, but there doesn't seem to be a good time. Oat suggested writing to him, which is a great idea. It's just that my thoughts have a hard time coming together (...after 10-11 hours of writing reports about small children with very complex mental health problems). I still need to bring it up, so that we can move forward one way or another.

I need to be strong.

I just fear what could potentially come out of such a discussion.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Marital Bliss

I'm reconsidering calling this blog 'Hell in a hand basket'

I am annoyed with myself that all I can do on this blog as of late is a) not write or b) complain. 

I feel like a resurgence of this blog is needed. That also goes for my whole life. A resurgence. Is there a 1-800 number for that? Can you share it with me if you have it.

I am down to the last 3 weeks at my job in FTT. It's been a great job, and it's been a completely overwhelming job. I am currently trying to hammer out the last 14 reports I have outstanding, hoping it can all get done in time before I have to hand in my keys. There are a lot of people I like very much at work and I feel sad that I will need to say goodbye. It's also been a good skill building job, a good experience acquiring job and a good resume building job.

There is another job waiting for me at the end of this one. Another mat leave coverage. Ha! The irony. But a job is a job, especially in this economy. It's also a good job where I will gain tons of experience. And, this job is closer to home. I can commute in about 45-55 minutes, and sleep at home each night. I'm relieved to have landed another job. As burnt out as I feel right now, I think being unemployed would be bad news bears.

The initial contact with large DC practice regarding the DE process has been made. Conversations have occurred between Mr. A and I. We haven't gone as far as securing the financing, but in my mind, this is where this ship is heading. In his mind? Well, that's another matter.

Hence the proposed title of my blog. Mr. A has continued with his talk of doubt about having kids. What? WHAT??? Who is this man that has been consistently telling me for the last 7 years that he wants children and wants to raise them with me?

Turns out our friends, Mr. & Mrs. Green, have procreated. Baby Green was born about 6 weeks ago. Mr. Green takes baby Green out for walks at all hours of the day and night, trying to let mama get some sleep (and also trying to create a baby who loves the outdoors just as much as his parents, I suspect). He stops by our house all the time apparently, and chats up Mr. A. Something wonderful happens in all of this, since Mr. A and Mr. G get to deepen their already close friendship. The downside is that Mr. A is appreciating more fully what babies are all about, something he never had the chance to do before. And turns out, he's not so keen on changing diapers, losing sleep, etc. Oh, and the lack of sex! Right, like there is a lot of that going on in our infertile household.

He brought this up a few times now. The last time he did, I leveled with him and said that I was volunteering for all the infant care required to maintain our child alive and happy. That didn't help one bit, as he spent the rest of the day brooding. And he's not at all a brooder, my husband of the sunny disposition.

I don't have a profound analysis of what is going on to offer. I'm just a bit baffled. I hope he comes around. This makes me feel discouraged. Oh wait, I was already discouraged. So, I am at the stage beyond that, whatever it's called.  

This is perhaps why I am not writing very much these days. How many ways can I describe discouragement? How much more is there to say about the fact that I should be going on mat leave instead of covering another woman's job on a mat leave. How much do you want to hear from a bitter woman?

I keep hoping good things start to happen and that I can feel them sink into my heart. I know there are good things happening right now in my very own life, but the joy they produce just bounces off me. I can't feel it. I can't appreciate the goodness of my life. I just keep holding on to the notion that it is there and that I will find my way to it again someday.

For those who still read and for those who still read and comment, I want to say a warm thank you. Your support continues to be very meaningful.