When I went through those years of infertility treatment, my focus was generally on one thing and one thing only: getting – and staying – pregnant. I knew what I wanted. I knew what I didn’t want. I ate, slept and breathed in a cyclical fashion, literally. When I blogged, I knew what I wanted to say and I said it. When I wanted to break up the obsessing, I would share a story about…whatever.
Now it’s Whatever all the time and I wonder more and more what I’m trying to work out. It’s not that I’m not trying to work out something, it’s just that there’s now so many somethings. For instance, I am reading a book, Parenting Children with ADHD, and it’s been the best thing I’ve read about ADHD since Doodicus was diagnosed three years ago. I’ve been highlighting passages through my Kindle that have made me say “AHA!” just so I can share them with you and try to explain why I find them important.
I’ve had this secret about my marriage that I need to get off my chest, but I don’t know how. OK, not so much “how”, but “why”. Why should I share it? Will it really help me to put it out there or will it end up coming back and biting me on the ass like so many other things have?
Then there’s the impulsive confession I made to a fellow blogger about my daughter, which I will state without explanation because I don’t know how to explain it: When I really look at her and not see any of myself, is this how a mother through adoption sees their child? I love her fiercely, almost desperately, but I have these irrational moments where I think, “She’s not mine.”
So instead of writing about any of this here because I don’t have the mental energy to both think about it AND write it down, I write instead about Whatever. My life that was so focused on my infertility is now blurred with what I had avoided, ignored or hadn’t foreseen. I’m living in a perpetual fog.