After Sunday's post, I want to clarify what the concern is with my sister's wedding next August: her wedding is in Napa; I live in New York. I don't care about being fat at a wedding or looking less than great postpartum in wedding pictures. Please, I would take it gladly and wear that extra chub with pride! But I know that if I am 36+ weeks at the time of her wedding, I won't be able to attend. And I have my doubts as to the feasibility of bringing a newborn--say 6 weeks or younger--on a crosscountry plane trip (I'm thinking it would be an infection risk, but if anyone knows otherwise, please let me know).
For these reasons, I think we'll have to hold off on treatments with the RE until January, which will be frustrating considering we'll get our testing done in October and then just stop. But I've pretty much decided that I'm going to continue trying naturally during December and January. I can't start trying to avoid at this point. Everything in my heart speaks against it.
* * *
Naturally, my mother had some choice words on the subject. I haven't spoken to her about our treatment plans or my feelings since our
incredibly awful conversation in April, and I think our relationship was much the better for it. But I wanted to get her take on my sister's wedding and the scheduling conflict it presents. I know my sister will be horribly hurt and incredibly angry if I can't go (even though she skipped my 30th birthday party to spend two weeks in Puerto Rico with her fiance notthatI'mstillbitteroranything). And truthfully, I'd be devastated to miss it, too! Myy mom said I should try to avoid during those months because "Won't you feel awful knowing if you'd just waited eight weeks none of this would be a problem?"
No, Mother. If I get pregnant and am lucky enough to carry the baby to term, I will not feel awful nor will I wish I had waited. I will be incredibly sad to not be in California, but I will thank God for the miracle of my child and have zero regrets.
It's all moot, because it's not November yet (though let's be honest, it's just around the corner) and there's no guarantee I would get pregnant even with treatments in those months, let alone without. But it's still discouraging to know that after all this time, my family would hold something like this against me.
* * *
Also discouraging: the name that Lawyer Guy's cousin gave to her son born yesterday. When he woke me up this morning with the words "Do you want the bad news or the worse news?" my heart leaped into my throat, but the reality was not far off from my frantic imaginings. Of course this 27-year-old, barely employed, multiple-accidental-pregnancy-having couple would give their son the boy's name LG and I hate (HATE HATE HATE) more than any other, the name we have mocked to each other for over a year. OF COURSE!
And no, I'm not going to spell out what the name is here, because it's somewhat popular in certain parts of the country (though not NYC) and I don't want to offend any readers. And I know that taste is subjective.
But still. My taste is better. I've got so many great names in the hopper just waiting for the right babies to wear them. Why do these people get to pollute our society with awful, awful names while... well, you know.
* * *
Despite my reaction to the cousins' new baby (ugh, that name!) I think I'm getting a little better about dealing with unexpected announcements. My mom told me that our former next-door neighbor called her recently with the news that her 24-year-old, unmarried, college-dropout daughter is pregnant. (Ha ha universe! Got me again!) And then my mom said that it made her sad, because she wants to be a grandmother, too.
You might think that this would make me feel guilty or worse, but it didn't. My mom has been so resolutely beating the drum of positivity this past year that for her to acknowledge that this is a horribly painful situation for her too helped me feel less alone. I guess I'm selfish that way. I don't mind if other people suffer as long as we're all suffering together. It's the loneliness I can't take.