I've been gone for a while, and there's a reason for that. I've had a really difficult time lately and my patience has been tested in ways I never imagined.
Nick and I have been trying to have a baby for what seems like an eternity. Of course he's gone quite often, but when he's home my life is consumed with beginning the next chapter in our lives. Nothing about it has been easy.
Lately I have found myself so obsessed with it that I can't enjoy or appreciate anything else in life. The only time I'm even remotely happy is during the 2 weeks that I'm waiting to ovulate... when I know there is absolutely nothing I can do to change things. The rest of the month I'm depressed knowing that I'm not pregnant, or obsessing over every little change in my body wondering if "this is it", or following the internet lives and stories of others in my situation that are even more psychotic and obsessive than myself. It leaves me feeling empty, worthless, and ultimately a failure... wondering if Nick and I will ever know the joy and happiness of conceiving our own child.
These feelings might seem a little premature, because there are plenty of people that have been trying much longer than we have or have been through so much more during the process. But when I want something, I want it now. I've never been a patient person, and this experience has reminded me of that. It has strained my emotions, strained my mental health, and unfortunately even put some unnecessary strain on Nick and our marriage.
I can't let it control my life anymore. I am going to do everything in my power to focus on something else for a while, and try my hardest to ignore the clock ticking in my head. It's not going to be easy. But I want nothing more than to wake up one day and realize I'm a few days late, take a test, and share the surprising joy with my husband when I tell him the good news. I don't want making a baby to become a chore, or look back and remember this time as stressful or emotionally draining.
I don't know what's in the cards for us. I don't know if we'll have to dig further into fertility testing, or never be able to have our own child and end up adopting. But I also don't know that if I relax a little and let nature take it's course that we won't conceive many children in our lifetime. I need a new hobby or a new venture in life to be excited about so that it is easier to put this in the back of my mind for a while before I reach my breaking point.
I don't want this post to be completely depressing so I'll leave you with this... I can proudly say I completed my first half marathon! I crossed the finish line with a smile on my face holding the hands of two of my best friends in 2:24... not too bad for what seemed like 13.1 miles uphill! It was exhilarating and I can honestly say I had the greatest time doing it (except maybe the 13th mile). It's a moment that will live with me forever. There's no greater feeling than reaching a goal you never thought possible.
They say that exercise is the best therapy for your mood, and after a week of establishing a daily running routine I have to agree. I've only been running a mile every morning, but it's amazing how great I feel. You have to understand that although I was very athletic growing up, I have NEVER had endurance. I played softball for 10 years and even ran track in middle school and was recruited to run in high school, but I was a sprinter- 100 yds max. Running long distances has always been a challenge for me. But for the first time in my life, I'm facing that challenge head on.
One of the main problems I've had with exercising as an adult is establishing a routine and sticking to it. I can find an excuse to take a day off on any day of the week. It's only been a week, but already I've fought great excuses to maintain my motivation. When I woke up Friday morning after increasing my weights at my class at the Y the night before, I could barely walk down the stairs... and I still found the motivation to run. On Saturday morning when I woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a bus, I still laced up my shoes and hit the road. And today when I woke up to pouring rain, I put on a hat and watched the rain fill the lake as I ran by.
When I started running last week I was having a lot of pain in my ankles and knees, and assumed that the old, worn-down shoes I was wearing didn't help. After a few recommendations from friends I made a special trip to Fleet Feet to get fitted for running shoes. I couldn't have been more impressed. I was there for nearly 2 hours while the salesman measured and inspected every inch of my feet, and found the perfect choices for me. He even went as far as watching me run on the sidewalk in each of the 3 pairs of shoes he had chosen, to make sure they were keeping my feet and joints aligned while I ran. It was an amazing experience. I left with brand new Mizunos complete with padded inserts, 4 pairs of fancy socks, new shorts and shirts (who knew you weren't supposed to run in cotton?), and a big smile on my face. If you're in need of new shoes or have never been fitted for the right shoe, I highly recommend them.
As if I needed another reason to feel great, Nick will officially be home before I know it. I can't give a specific date (as if the military would even let me know one), but it will be MONTHS earlier than expected. I'm on top of the world, but mostly still in shock. It just doesn't seem real. As crazy as it sounds, I don't think I allowed myself to believe that he would ever come home. We all deal with deployments differently, and the only way I knew how to adjust to life without him was to imagine that my life would always be without him. That brings me to another subject... I'm so nervous about his return. I'm finally in a place where I have established my own routine and found contentment as a pseudo-single adult, and I'm terrified of readjusting to having him home again. Not that I would trade it for anything in the world... it's just a little scary. I can still hear myself telling him multiple times a day after he returned from BCT that he was doing something wrong, because that's not how we did it here anymore. I have to remind myself that it's okay for the dog bowl to move to a different location, or for the laundry to quadruple in size, or for the bed to shrink to half of it's size... it's just great to have him home. I was talking to a friend of mine the other night at dinner about my worries and concerns when he comes home, and she reminded me that I feel this way EVERY time he's about to return after a long absence. She also reminded me that I worry myself for nothing, because after about 2 weeks of readjusting and fitting him back into each day, it's like he never left. She couldn't be more right.
In other news, I'm hosting one of my best friend's baby showers next weekend! The details are coming together and I'm busy working hard on some final touches, but I can't elaborate yet because she likes to quietly stalk this blog. I really hope this shower proves to be everything she has hoped for... and I can't wait for little Caroline to be here! If there's one thing I've been missing in Nashville for the last few years, it's a cute little baby around to spoil rotten :)
happy Sunday!
I'm not a crier. We all have our moments (especially around a certain time of the month), but I rarely cry. I can hear tragic stories, watch heart-wrenching love stories, and witness the suffering and death of patients in the hospital, and although I'm sad I just don't cry. Call me cold-hearted, uncaring, whatever... but it's just how it is. I know deep down I'm a very compassionate person (and nurse!), but it doesn't usually show on the outside.
Recently, however, I've found that there is one thing that is guaranteed to bring tears to my eyes every time... the birth of a newborn. During my OB rotation this summer I observed anywhere from 2-5 deliveries in each 12-hour shift, and each time my eyes got just a little watery. I even found myself crying while watching TLC's "A Baby Story" yesterday. I don't know exactly what it is, but it gets me every time. I think it's a combination of the sheer joy and pride on the parent's faces the first time they see their baby, the overall exhilaration of the moment, and my own biological clock ticking louder and louder. I can only imagine what I'll be like during the birth of my own children... if you plan on being there you might want to wear a raincoat.
