Yesterday was a B-A-D day. It sucked, quite frankly. I had to open up my own site and look at my son’s picture multiple times to keep me from running from the building into the rain and never looking back. I blame the hormonal let-down combined with the ‘roids.
Of course it didn’t help that at one of my meetings I noticed the woman across the table from me sitting peculiarly, with her arms akimbo. Jesusonaritz! She’s pregnant! Nothing extraordinary about that, except she just had a baby born in August. Clearly she was 5-6 months along already.
I had a friend with a very colorful personality when I was living in Kansas who had a quaint saying for women like that: She didn’t sleep with her feet in no bucket.
Couple that with the attendance of my sweet, caring ER doctor, Dr. Marathon, who pulled me aside at the end of the meeting to ask how my ultrasound had went…
Yes, today I would have been scheduled for my 6 week ultrasound. Good thing I had that 3rd beta because the requisite freakingthefuckout would have already begun with all the bleeding I’d been doing for the past 36 hours. Because he was sincerely moved by my bad news whispered discreetly back to him, I had to quickly excuse myself to go sob in the bathroom.
When I got back to my office I then had to shut the door because I was a mess, complete with the blubbering, sniffling and snot draining.
As I was getting ready for bed, it started all over again. Mr. DD, bless his heart, even went ahead and mounted the under-cabinet radio I got for him for Father’s Day (he found it "hidden" in the garage). Major truce move since this morning he announced he didn’t like it because it had to be bolted to the cabinets. Well, duh.
He then came in to the bedroom and sat down next to me. The room was already dark, so I watched his silhouette as he said to me:
You cannot let it get to you, this business of being angry at every pregnant woman you see. If you do, it will eat you alive. If all you do is think about them, then you are not thinking of X, and when we get all done with this, he will have grown up without you.
Not only was that the sweetest blow I’ve had to the stomach lately, but it also echoed something someone else just recently wrote me in an email.
The control I so desperately want on my life is swirling the drain. While I wait for a donor, I think I’ll find a tampon or a drain plug and try to stem that flow. This bullshit has got to stop!
By the way, if you notice the time of this post? After two full days without hives, I woke up at 3:00ish to pee and was attacked by another round, this time on my elbows, buttocks and the back of my thighs. It looks like I’ll be getting some refills before heading to the beach NEXT SATURDAY!!!!!!