So yeah, if you haven’t been over to TeamWinks yet this morning, go. Now. I mean it, shoo! Come back when you’re done!
Okay, heard the good news? Then you can now come back here and hang out with my pack.
At your request, making their blog debut, I’d like to introduce the Very Bad Pets ™.
These were taken this morning, in the midst of active Badness. The Very Bad Dog had scared Very Bad Cat, Size Small, up the tree in the back yard, where she proceeded to hang out and growl at him from above while he barked at her from below. The pictures don’t show it, but she curled up in that tree branch made herself comfy — she’s not in any danger of getting stuck up there. The Very Bad Cat, Size Medium, was unimpressed and decided to lay in the dirt and chase bugs while watching to see if her sister was going to come down any time soon. There is also a Very Bad Cat, Size X-Large, but he had split out to go hunting before all the commotion started. He was quite upset with me, since I popped him on the head for hissing at VBC, SM, while they were eating this morning. He also left a chipmunk to rot right beside my car door, so we know how he feels about me right now. Ick.
Reading back over the last few entries, they sound very sad to me. But I really, really want you guys to understand that I’m in a very good place right now. Unfortunately, y’all get to hear all the unpleasantness that I’m cleaning out of my skull. I made the comment over at Max’s Mommy the other day that when I’m anxious or worried, I try to run through the worst-case outcome in my head and figure out what I would do in response to that. And it hit me the other day, that even if we’re never able to have kids, I’ll be able to live through it. I’ll have good days and bad days, but most of the time I’ll be okay. I’ll be able to enjoy life. I’ll spoil my nieces and nephews, I’ll drive expensive cars, I’ll travel. There will be times when I’m sad, times when I’m angry, times when the vision of a pregnant woman will blow my mind. But I’ll get over it. Life goes on, and I’ll take it a step at a time. In my head, I’m trying on the idea of living childfree. I know it’s a long way off, but I’m going ahead and breaking in the idea, just-in-case, so that it doesn’t rub blisters if it comes to pass.
Adoption is still a little out there to me, but I’m squeezing my hips into that outfit as well. Right now, it’s a little tight in the wrong places and feels like a weird fit, but it has potential. It’s running the same path as childfree — a few weeks ago I realized that if someone just walked up and handed me a baby, I’d take it. It wouldn’t bother me at all. But the process of navigating all the legalities and paperwork to get to the baby still squigs me out, as well as some of the moral obligations that I would become subject to. But it doesn’t hurt for me to get used to the idea, to think that maybe, someday, I might go down that path.
In the meantime, Manly and I are enjoying life. I’m making an effort to get out of the house and be more social with my friends, work is going well for both of us, the summer is beautiful, and I’m happy with myself. As a matter of fact, I’m staring down the barrel of a kitchen-renovation-turned-into-major-remodeling-project later this year, so it’s not like we don’t have plenty to keep my mind off of IF. I’m focusing on making the mental transition from “Oh my god, I’m infertile and I’m freaking out about it” to a place where my infertility is integrated into my life. It’s part of who I am, but it does not define me. I define who I am.