Category: Blog

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At Arm's Length

Yesterday I realized that my SIL is due in a little over three months. And while I spent most of her pregnancy with Liam wallowing in self-pity and anger, this time around I’ve pretty much “ignored” the fact that she was once again pregnant. And I’m once again not.

Okay, so I haven’t completely ignored the fact that SIL is pregnant. Yes, we’ve talked a little about it, but mostly to see how her baby was doing. Because I know how difficult it was for her to go for so many tests, especially after she had found out that Liam would be born with some “imperfections.” So yeah … I’ve tried to be there if she needed me.

Thank God she hasn’t. Needed me, that is.

Yes I realize how incredibly odd that sounds. Probably a little cruel, if I’m being completely honest. But there really is reason behind it.

First of all, her baby is doing well. And thus far, there’s no need for concern over the possibility of any major health issues for her OR the baby. So “being there” as a shoulder to cry on or someone to vent to … as was necessary with her pregnancy with Liam … is not completely needed this time around.

And second of all, I’ve distanced myself purposefully for self-preservation. While I normally consider myself a kind person who is empathetic to most people’s individual situations, this time around I can’t be. Okay, so I do understand how scared my SIL probably is about this pregnancy, especially since it’s been just over a year since Liam was prematurely born. But I just can’t share those sentiments with her.

Because I’m not, nor will I ever be in the near future, pregnant.

Yes I could set aside that fact and just be 100% there for her. But as infertility is such a big huge ginormous part of who I am at this stage of my life, I simply just can’t let the sadness … the anxiety … the anger of not being able to produce my own biological child go.

So keeping myself at arm’s length during my SIL’s pregnancy is the best thing I could do for her. Because I don’t want her to feel my sadness. And I don’t want her to feel my anger. Because, quite frankly, she doesn’t need to focus on any of those emotions except making sure she brings a healthy baby into this world. This time around.

And once her baby is here … just like her other children both past and present … I hope she knows that (s)he will be loved by me. Completely.

I just need to survive the pregnancy.

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Down for the Count …

But like the Bozo Punching bag, I still come up smiling.

Thanks for all the wonderful comments and words of encouragement that y’all have given me. I truly do feel the love out there. It literally made me shed a few tears … knowing that I’ve got some really good internet buddies and IRL buddies (soon to be both … can’t wait!) that care as much as they do about my well-being.

Wednesday at work was extremely frustrating and … quite frankly … much too overwhelming to deal with. And after attending my weekly meeting for this work group, I decided to go home. Mentally, I could not even process what my tasks at hand were. What good am I if I can’t think?

So I wrapped up what I was currently working on prior to the meeting, shut down my computer and promptly told my supervisor that I wasn’t feeling so well and was heading home. And seriously, I wasn’t … I had this horrible headache (most likely Lupron-induced), my nose was stuffed (d*mn allergies) and I was actually feeling quite nauseated (most likely from just the negativity at work).

I slept away the rest of the afternoon. And boy, did I need that. Just the comfort of having my two kitties on either side of me as I lounged about was the best thing I could have done for myself. I totally needed to decompress.

So the next morning, I reinflated myself (but not necessarily my ego. I have self-esteem issues … can’t you tell?) and walked back into work with a smile on my face and my head held high.

Because seriously … whatever bad day / days I may have … however many times I get knocked down … I still have to somehow pick myself off the ground and come up smiling.

Thanks again for all your wonderfully warm wishes and sentiments. You. Guys. Rock.

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My Cousin, The Graduate

Yesterday, I stepped back into time. Back to 1990 when I was just a wee 17 year old graduating from high school. It was exciting to think about what my future held. I would be heading off to college in less than four months; living “on my own” in my dorm room, experiencing some freedom. Finally.

I mean, after all … I had just finished 12 years of Catholic school. Yes … twelve years. Don’t get me wrong … I am very appreciative of the education I was lucky to receive. And I truly do admire all the sacrifices my parents made to send both Dr. Bro and I to a private school. But to say that I left high school just a little naive about the world, is an understatement. It’s no wonder I turned out the way I do, feeling like I need to break out of my shell at all times, yet sensing the guilt that would inevitably follow.

So where am I going with this? Well, yesterday my youngest cousin just graduated from high school. The same Catholic high school that I graduated from eighteen years ago. Except these graduates were so much younger looking than I remember being. And they looked pretty wet behind the ears, too. But they were also full of energy and enthusiasm and so open and willing to experience everything in life. They were so ready to break out of their cocoon. And honestly … I couldn’t be more excited for them. For my cousin.

Because their life is just truly beginning. And what I wouldn’t do to be able to feel like that again …

Congratulations, Dear Cousin!
I am so very proud of all your accomplishments!

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My Furbaby Can Vote! ~100th Post~

So my oldest furbaby, Rain turned 18 years old this past month. At least we think so.

Dr. Brother, future-Hubby & I found her 18 years ago this upcoming weekend after arriving back home late one night from London, Ontario. It was my grandmother’s birthday and all of the cousins made it a point to be there for her party. It was a crappy night to be driving; horrible thunder and lightning with heavy downpours all the way home. And as we pulled into the driveway, all of us were anxious to just get inside the house.

But amongst all that noisy thunder, Dr. Brother (who was still in undergrad and also home for the summer, as was I) kept hearing this sad, long howl. He was the one that said to check under the cars because it might be a cat that was hiding under the engines. He just wanted to make sure that the poor animal wouldn’t die in the morning when he went to start his car.

Yes, I know I already posted this, but it’s such a d*mn cute picture!!

So Dr. Bro, future-Hubby & I went about trying to find exactly where this pitiful meow was coming from. And as we checked under the bushes in our front yard, there lay a little grey and white furball, all shivery and shaky.

We picked her up, dried her off and placed her in a box with some soft towels. We gave her a little milk to drink and let her sleep. Unfortunately, we had to keep her in the garage that evening because Dad was still in London, and we couldn’t very well take the kitten in without asking his permission.

The next morning, we took her back inside the house and showed her to Dad. Yup … as I suspected, he couldn’t say no to the little furball.

And that’s how Rain became part of our family. At first she was my little furball sister. But as I moved into my own apartment after graduation, she packed her bags to come live with me and has been my furbaby ever since.

So Happy Birthday, Dear Rain! We’re so glad that you are still with us … even though you’ve gotten kookier in your “old age.” We love you very very much …

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And now … to mark my 100th Post …

I figured we could do something fun in honor of Rain’s 18th birthday.
Unfortunately, I was not able to properly add this poll to my blog (d*mn fixed width columns!), so you’ll have to click HERE to get to it …

Have fun!!