Grief

I am utterly exhausted.  Emotionally drained.  It has been a rough two days.  A roller coaster of feelings have coursed their way through my body. I am simultaneously able to understand that my irrational thoughts are normal at a time like this, and ashamed to be having the thoughts in the first place. 

I've been looking at happy couples with babies and toddlers with resentment.  I've been feeling bitter about how easy it is for straight people to keep trying to get pregnant with an unlimited supply of fresh eggs and sperm.  I've been frustrated with the process of having to take medication that makes my boobs extra sore, my cramps extra persistent, and my mood swings even swingy-er.  I've been annoyed that with every two week wait, I've been eating more greens and avoiding alcohol, as if something were actually happening.  I've been irritated that I've been taking prenatal vitamins for over two years and stopped drinking caffeine for nothing.  I've been hearing every announcement of a friend or acquaintance's pregnancy (or second pregnancy, or third pregnancy) as a personal attack.  Every newborn I've seen on Facebook has been another moment the universe is wagging it's nasty finger at me, saying, "see, your parents are right, it isn't normal to be queer!"

In sum, this process of trying to get pregnant - and failing - is bringing forth all my horrible demons.  It is feeding into my tendency to catastrophize, to try to control and plan things, to compare myself and my self worth to others, to be a perfectionist.  It is bringing up my internalized homophobia.  It is tickling my sense of fear and urgency about S's age and his heart condition.  It is playing into my frustration with New York City, and how our quality of life is deeply affected by the cost of living here, both economic and emotional. 

I've been having a hard time getting out of bed in the morning.  I've been walking like a zombie throughout my days.  I've been bottling things up.  I've been crying. 

I am tired. And angry that because of homophobia and transphobia, because of racism and classism, because I've been trying to live my life by other people's timelines and rules and expectations, we didn't try getting pregnant any sooner, even though we were ready. 

 I'm having a hard time trusting that this is all in the universe's grand plan for me, for us.  Even though S has been diligently and patiently reminding me, every single day, that in fact, it is.