Edited to add: I was very upset when I wrote this but I still want to post it. It was written on my blackberry and I debated whether or not to post it. Because I view this blog as a diary of sorts I want to remember these feelings. I think me and my husband will be okay, but things aren't better yet.
Written 1/1/11 8:04 am
I am mid flight right now from visiting family on the east coast for the new year. My face is red, blotchy, my eyes are swollen, I have mascara all over my face, my nose is stopped up and I am getting sympathetic glances from a soldier in the next aisle. Yep, I'm crying. I'm so frustrated right now that if I wasn't on a plane I'd go outside and yell "Fuck me" as loud as I possibly could.
Fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me.
I seriously just hate this fucking bitch called hope. And it's starting to make me resent the one person I thought I could count on because he is the one who keeps offering hope and then seemingly snatching it back.
He keeps telling me to be sympathetic, to be sensitive to his feelings. But I'm not a fucking mind reader and I'm sick to fucking death of his changing his mind.
It all started when I told him today that we should narrow down our choices and decide on a donor in the next 1-2 weeks to ensure that everything is there on time and there are no problems. Suddenly I'm "pressuring him" and being "stressful".
He says, "Maybe we'll try this month, maybe we won't" all casually.
Fuck fuck fuck.
See I thought when he said he was ready, he was ready. EXCUSE me for not reading into that statement all sensitively and understandingly. EXCUSE me for actually taking what he said at face value.
He asked me if any husbands in this situation that I've read about have ever had second thoughts. I said of course but not usually after they finally come to the decision...but that I'd read of one couple in which the husband actually changed his mind in the REs office right before the insemination. He said he completely understands that because you never know how you'll feel until you're in that moment. I am in no fucking way gonna do this and be wondering at the last minute if he's gonna back out.
I just can't stop crying and my face is chapped from the shitty airline napkins.
We are pretty much giving each other the silent treatment.
God I don't know what to do but I know I can't do this for much longer.
The best part? He asked me how I'd feel if we are never able to have kids. I said, "I'd probably be okay but I would be sad for the rest of my life." He then said I should go back to counseling. OOOOH I never thought of that. Counseling! Of course! They will make it better. I bet I won't want kids at all after talking to them! What a genius fucking idea Einstein fuck face.
I wish to God this had never happened to us. We are not any closer for it. I am so filled with sorrow right now. Hate is even sneaking in there. I feel so awful.
I might take a break from blogging. I'm at the end of my rope right now.
Written 1/1/11 8:04 am
I am mid flight right now from visiting family on the east coast for the new year. My face is red, blotchy, my eyes are swollen, I have mascara all over my face, my nose is stopped up and I am getting sympathetic glances from a soldier in the next aisle. Yep, I'm crying. I'm so frustrated right now that if I wasn't on a plane I'd go outside and yell "Fuck me" as loud as I possibly could.
Fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me.
I seriously just hate this fucking bitch called hope. And it's starting to make me resent the one person I thought I could count on because he is the one who keeps offering hope and then seemingly snatching it back.
He keeps telling me to be sympathetic, to be sensitive to his feelings. But I'm not a fucking mind reader and I'm sick to fucking death of his changing his mind.
It all started when I told him today that we should narrow down our choices and decide on a donor in the next 1-2 weeks to ensure that everything is there on time and there are no problems. Suddenly I'm "pressuring him" and being "stressful".
He says, "Maybe we'll try this month, maybe we won't" all casually.
Fuck fuck fuck.
See I thought when he said he was ready, he was ready. EXCUSE me for not reading into that statement all sensitively and understandingly. EXCUSE me for actually taking what he said at face value.
He asked me if any husbands in this situation that I've read about have ever had second thoughts. I said of course but not usually after they finally come to the decision...but that I'd read of one couple in which the husband actually changed his mind in the REs office right before the insemination. He said he completely understands that because you never know how you'll feel until you're in that moment. I am in no fucking way gonna do this and be wondering at the last minute if he's gonna back out.
I just can't stop crying and my face is chapped from the shitty airline napkins.
We are pretty much giving each other the silent treatment.
God I don't know what to do but I know I can't do this for much longer.
The best part? He asked me how I'd feel if we are never able to have kids. I said, "I'd probably be okay but I would be sad for the rest of my life." He then said I should go back to counseling. OOOOH I never thought of that. Counseling! Of course! They will make it better. I bet I won't want kids at all after talking to them! What a genius fucking idea Einstein fuck face.
I wish to God this had never happened to us. We are not any closer for it. I am so filled with sorrow right now. Hate is even sneaking in there. I feel so awful.
I might take a break from blogging. I'm at the end of my rope right now.
