How naive I used to be. There was a time, right around the time I got my first period (The summer I turned twelve - I like to compare that with other girls; so, when and where did you first get yours? I was in New York with my sister visiting family for the summer, my grandmother had taken us grocery shopping and then to McDonald's for lunch, Sister and I went to use the bathroom and we discovered that Girl You'll be a Woman Now) that I thought having a baby was easy. You meet a nice guy, get married (I was taught old school), you and your husband share a special hug, and you have babies. SILLY ME. As if a big penis doesn't sound scary enough when you're learning about the birds and bees (What do birds and bees have to do with sex? Anyone?) - I'm glad I didn't know back then it was also going to involve a bunch of peeing (both in cups and on sticks), leg spreading (for strangers), calendar checking, day counting and blood donating (without the complimentary juice, cookies and t-shirt afterwards).
This is the part where I'm supposed to say, but look at how amazingly far technology has come; the fact that so many people are able to have babies now who wouldn't have even twenty years ago. Okay, yeah. Yay for technology. And what about the part where his parents so generously offered to help us out with this, a true blessing. Yes. Still thankful, yes. Correct me if I'm wrong but I am allowed to have more than happy unicorn kitten fart feelings over this whole thing, because to be honest, I'm a little worn out from all the positivity.
It's hard to believe, but it's already been four months of this baby business. One third of a year. I now know why they tell you in the beginning to be prepared for a time consuming situation and I should have heeded that warning a little more seriously. This seems like it's been going on a really long time, is all I'm saying.
But whatever. What else did I have to do the past few months anyway, right? Haha.
I peed on yet another stick this morning, and though it brought bad flashbacks to a couple of weeks ago, this time it was just to see if I was ovulating. Which it said I am. When I called Monique (she's on my damn nerves, especially after causing me to have a freaking car accident yesterday) (yes I've decided to blame her) to report the results, she said and I quote "Ruh-Roh." Huh? I thought you said only yesterday that if the test was positive, we go forth with the IUI on Saturday instead of Sunday - what's the biggie? But no; a positive test result was not good enough for Monique, that pain in the ass - she wanted me to go in and get MORE blood drawn just to make sure. Sweet Christ.
But okay, I hung up with her and hurried on downtown, made it there in twelve minutes, got pricked yet again (left arm now has serious track marks) and paid another seventy bucks just to confirm that yes, the test was correct. Now I no longer need to get an Hcg shot (What? Gee willicers, my night just won't be complete without Brian giving me an injection!) and everything's a go for tomorrow morning's trip to Charleston.
We have to be there by 10:00 and she warned me that the Cooper River Bridge Run is also tomorrow morning, so we'll probably run into some horrendous traffic which I'm very excited about.
Despite everything I just said (bitched about would be the more accurate term), I am still excited about everything. It sometimes takes awhile, for us anyway, for good things to come to us, but they always do eventually. Patience has never been my strong suit, so even though it sounds like I'm angry and bitter it's mostly just me blowing off some steam. I do recognize the positive in all this. If I do end up getting a kid, that kid will eventually fuck up and look at all this extra guilt making material I already have:
"Do you know what I went through just to have you and now you think it's okay to make a "D" in Algebra?"
"But Mom, you never even PASSED Algebra!"
"Don't talk back to me, Young Lady/Man!"
I am happy, it's just not totally obvious right now.
In other news, Delorme just stopped by to say hi and I was happy to finally be able to give him his long overdue birthday present. Except when I handed him the six pack of the German beer, only five beers were present. He laughed and said had Brian been here, he would've shared it with him anyway. I think I'm going to smack him in the mouth when he gets home, just for fun.