A bag of chuckles… that’s what I would use to describe my year so far. I mean that both sarcastically and honestly. Pretty sure I got another round of sickies on Friday. I’m not sure what that one was, and I’m still feeling far from stellar. All I know is that there were things that did NOT want to be in my stomach… apparently several days worth of things… so those things protested… made their violent exit… and left me crumpled in misery in front of my toilet. Shaking, moaning and whining like a two-year-old.
Warming: this is probably a lot of information for some, but uhhhhhh, seeing how I share the details of my uterus and ovaries on this little blog of mine… well… what do you expect?
I’ve been married nine years, and if there is one thing I can be sure of is that the Edder definitely meant it when he said ‘in sickness.’ Let me over share. We live in a small house built in 1930, with just one bathroom. Edder typically showers in the evenings. Well, he needed to shower Friday evening and I warned him that his shower may come with unwanted sound effects. His response? ‘That’s okay, just do what you need to do.’
I’m sure he regretted those words six minutes later when he was cleaning himself to the sound of his wife violently hurling up Gatorade and a very small tub of raspberry sorbet (he had just gone to the grocery store to get her). When I was done with that fun, he peeked around the shower curtain as I was laying on the bathmat shaking, crying and moaning and said “well… the good news is I don’t think there can be much left in there.” And just continued with his cleanings.* Yes. Thank you. You are correct sir. Add to my shaking and crying, uncontrollable laughing. Excellent combo.
Welcome to my world. So while my weekend was far from fun, mostly spent in aching, exhausted misery (because once the hurling portion of my sickness passed, the fun continued from the other end. I KNOW!! I TOTALLY OVER SHARE!!) at least I could laugh about it. All. Especially the fact that this was the second time in a matter of weeks that I’ve been extremely sick and there was nothing I could do about it… except laugh.
At one point yesterday I finally just let go and realized I can’t control this. Any of it. My infertility, my sickness, some of my frustrations and stresses. My body is clearly trying to scream at me about something. I believe that it’s screaming at me to relax. And to laugh. And to let the Edder make me laugh. Laughing helps me know that everything is going to be okay.
It’s time I stop taking my infertility, sickness, career frustrations, stress about getting my house reconstructed (including, but not limited to, an additional bathroom–for obvious reasons!) and perfect before a baby arrives…. all of it… so completely seriously. Even if just for awhile. I need a break from it! It’s been too much. Too heavy. Too overwhelming for this gentle girl who just wants to do what’s best, but doesn’t always know what the best thing is.
In the end it will all be okay. In the end I will still be able to laugh and be happy. In the end I still have the best set of family and friends a girl could ask for. No matter what. I have a life that I genuinely love despite the fact it isn’t ‘perfect’ (i couldn’t always say that, but i sure mean that now).
Getting sick and laughing at the ridiculousness that can be my life is helping me let go in regard to everything I’ve been battling against so hard lately. I woke up today so much more relaxed. I’m hoping this sticks around until after the surgery… and really quite a long time. It’s refreshing, letting go.
*Once he finished with his cleanings he helped me clean myself up and then put me back in bed.
Please note: I also vow to wash my hands for one minute straight in scalding hot water after every single workout sesh at the YMCA. Because clearly my body is screaming at me to do that too.