I should have saved my 100th post for something more momentous, right? A BFP, a new diagnosis, an anniversary. Shouldn't there be brass bands and a balloon drop?
It's an ordinary Friday morning, the first day of my Spring Break, the middle of the 2ww, and I'm eating my oatmeal and sipping my tea at the kitchen table, checking in on my bloggie and message-board girls and checking out some calls for papers before hitting the books (Austen and Sarah Grand today).
Picking among the various strands twisting through my mind right now, I could talk about the visit to the hospital on Wednesday to meet the niece (Lou-Ellen served me well that day), or I could talk about Fertility Friend realizing her mistake and changing my O date (but never apologizing for it, the bitch), or the precarious point I'm at in my 2ww (6 dpo, the time when phantom symptoms begin to creep like cats through tall grass, preparing to pounce).
But I fear the dignity of a 100th post would be compromised by dwelling on such a grab bag of minutiae. Instead, I'll touch on some of the things I meant to write around the time of my TTC anniversary but didn't feel like delving into when it actually arrived.
I try all the time to talk up this difficult experience to myself. "You're learning so much," I'll say. "You're growing from this. This will make you a better person, a better mom, a better wife, and daughter, and sister, and friend."
When I sit down to write out what exactly I've learned, it doesn't turn out to be much. I've learned that:
- Life is not a syllabus or an outline and I don't get to decide its chronology.
- What I always thought of as patience is tolerance. I tolerate irritating people, bothersome subway rides, frustrating experiences very well. But patience requires waiting without knowing when the wait will end-- and it turns out that I'm not so good at that.
- I can endure more than I thought possible in March 2009.
- It doesn't matter how other people believe I'm coping or dealing, whether I'm weak and obsessive or strong. I'm the only person inside my head right now, and if I'm satisfied with my progress, that's all that counts.
- The most beautiful moments in life can also be the saddest.
- Ruthlessly judging other people as shallow, ungrateful boobs makes it easier to deal with jealousy. Who cares if they deserve it!
These are pretty obvious lessons. Like, duh, you can't plan everything. Duh, sadness and beauty coexist. The fact that they're revelations teaches me one more thing:
- My life has been pretty fucking lucky up until now.
My greatest disappointment prior to TTC was not getting into my first-choice Ivy League college and having to go to my second-choice Ivy League college. I know, boo hoo. I met my husband when I was 20, and we've been madly in love for a decade. I live in my favorite city and I'm not tired of it yet. I've never struggled seriously with illness or finances. My family is healthy and loving and lives near by. I adore my mother-in-law and she thinks of me as her daughter. I have close, beautiful friendships that have lasted for decades.
See? Lucky. So, so, so lucky. If it's my turn to get the fuzzy end of the lollipop, then it's my turn. I can't say life wasn't good to me before. Maybe I do deserve this in a weird way more than someone else. At the very least, I don't deserve it less than someone else.
I don't have any conclusions. Just some thoughts on a Friday morning.
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