This and That; or, Catching Up

I sometimes wish I was not so in-tune with my body. Since last Friday, I've known with about 98% surety that I'm not pregnant. Since Wednesday, it's gone up to 99.9%. And today I know with 100% confidence that my period is coming tomorrow. Why is my body so freaking predictable? Why can't it trick me once in a while, just to let me lead myself on?

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So I haven't spent much time this 2ww obsessing about my cycle: no boob mashing, no cramp tracking, no faking of pregnancy hunger pangs (Which, seriously Sloper, it was time to stop doing that. The scale is telling you so). But this does not mean I don't still over-think things. I've spent the time waiting for my period and waiting to schedule my HSG by alternately envisioning myself as the mother to ART-produced twins (in my wilder moments, girl-boy-girl triplets) and envisioning myself undergoing failed treatment after failed treatment and finally giving up in despair. I picture holding my kids in the hospital and I picture us learning that Lawyer Guy's sperm is hopeless and it was a miracle we got pregnant in the first place. And I picture all of these things about 8 times a minute.

But at least the SA is on the schedule for next week. I hope my poor LG can survive the wait: he is dreading this so very much. Does anyone know how long it usually takes them to get the results back to you?

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I hate what an awful mope I've become the last two or three months. I think back to when I first started this blog and how motivated I was to think positively and plan for solutions and fight against self-pity. And I think back to the first 3 or 4 months after the miscarriage and how determined I was to find silver linings and life lessons in what was happening to us. Now I just want to wallow and feel sorry for myself and make everyone around me miserable, even while we're actually doing something for once to address this problem. I suck.

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So the bloody hag is set to arrive tomorrow afternoon (while I'm at the opera, how fitting) and then the day after is Niece #2's baby naming at a country club in the suburbs (to which they have invited 150 guests). What a delightful way to spend CD 1! I have zero enthusiasm for this event, and Lawyer Guy told me I could stay home, but I can't. Not with the history the we have with those ILs (plus, my SIL called me three months ago to reserve the date and specifically ask me to be there because it's very important to them).

Shall we take a poll? What's the over-under on me crying in the bathroom? Scowling at small children? Hiding in the car? Leaving early?

I could go on and on and on about how the timing of this event couldn't be more dead-on awful if they had calculated it specifically to give me the most pain and how showy and obnoxious I find it, but I am trying--not succeeding, but at least trying--to be a less hideously resentful and jealous person. I'll let you know how that goes.

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Finally, Leslie at Evolutionary Dead End? tagged me in this poll, which I will answer briefly (for once? I'm not sure I'm capable of brevity) as this post is already insanely long:

1) What is your dream occupation?
Easy: Caberet singer, novelist, or official baby-namer. I would like to have control over the names of everyone's children. I promise I'll pick one you like.

What's the best dish you can cook?
I make really good Lemon-Spiced Chicken and awesome artichoke dip and lasagne. I'm quite partial to the apple-walnut stuffing I make every year on Thanksgiving, too. And I make good cheesecake.

Have you ever been mentioned in the newspaper? What for?

A few times! First, at age four for participating in my preschool's "Crazy Hat Day" (there was a picture of me wearing a--yes--crazy hat.) I was immensely proud. More recently, LG and I had our wedding announced in the NY Times Wedding Section. I was almost as excited as I was about the crazy hat. (Total lie: I screamed with happiness after I got the fact-checker's call the week before the wedding).

What's the worst and/or most memorable job you've ever had?

Without question, my two weeks the summer after high school as a telemarketer shilling specialty business publications over the phone. I made four sales. In two weeks. I felt like an associate of Satan. I quit in despair.

When you were a teenager, at what age did you envision yourself getting married? How old were you in reality when you got married?
I imagined myself marrying at 26, just like my mother did. I got married at 27. This seemed (I shit you not) like a major failing at this time. I also thought I'd have my first kid at 29, again, like my mother did. I'm now hoping for 31.

What's your most hated household chore? What's your favorite?
I hate cleaning the bathroom, dusting, mopping the floor, and walking the dog at night alone. I like vacuuming and washing dishes by hand.

What's your earliest memory?
I was 2 and on a visit with my parents to my mom's sister and her family in Phoenix. I remember looking down at their red Spanish tile floor and staring out the screen door at night hoping their dog would come in so I could play with it. I remember a big bank of indoor potted plants near their stairwell. And I remember that my grandfather was there.