Mrrr-eow!

Anyone who hangs around my corner of the Pink Apartment Building knows that I have some "issues" with my mother and how she puts things. My primary means of dealing with that is to live in a different city and not answer my phone when she calls. Ever. Sometimes I listen to her messages, often not. Delete, delete, delete.

We were all together for Christmas this week and I brought up to my siblings that a family friend of ours whose wife had died this year was remarrying. And not only was he remarrying, but his fiancée was another old family friend. I'd been thunderstruck, but pleased since he seems so happy at such a late age. I've also heard that quickly remarrying after a spouse dies after a long illness is not uncommon. So, I really wasn't judging on that front. In fact, I'd always felt that their marriage was profoundly unhappy. [Not unlike my own parents...]

So, we're all thinking, wow, that's unexpected that those two got together or something along those lines. My mother walked in and said, "Well, she has an inheritance."

DO WHAT? My mother who used to always talk about how she married my dad in spite of his not having money and how much that pissed off her parents and haha on them and aren't their values all effed up...

Okay, so it gets better. She then said that the groom couldn't just live on Social Security. Someone brought up that he had worked for many years for an organization that must have a pension for someone of his generation. Oh no, she said. They don't do that. (As if she knows. Not that we do, but why is she so certain?)

One of my sisters told our mom that she felt that Mom was disrespecting the bride by saying that there was no reason that the groom would be marrying her except for financial reasons. Mom said, no, I was just saying that he'd go and live with her and she'd take care of him.

NO discussion of love, affection, sex, companionship... just money.



Later someone brought up that the bride is a counselor and my mom went to see her for a grand total of two sessions before she decided that "flight to safety" was much easier. She was "healed" and no more need for therapy. Unfortunately, she doesn't see that in any way as being related to why her children spend as little time as possible with her.

Funk

I am just in a giant funk. I have tons of reasons to be happy and thankful, but I just feel rotten and dissatisfied.

1. I'm not pregnant yet. I had the HSG test where they put the catheter of dye in you and all that and then ultrasounds of all my lady business. Everything checked out. So, my "baby factory" is structurally sound. Yay. Husband's "raw material" is sound. Yay. Still not pregnant. Boo. My wacko endocrinologist also put me on Metformin to help with PCOS because my testosterone was kinda high, but the number I saw over her shoulder didn't seem high and the ultrasound didn't show any problems... Also, that shit makes me sick to my stomach all the time and I've gained weight since starting it, which is the opposite of what happens to most people. Ugh. I need a new endocrinologist and to make another appt. with the gyno. In the meantime, I am weaning off the Metformin. If my doc wants me on it again, I can go on it again. I'm just so damn tired of being sick and I'm not convinced that it's worth it. Oh, and I have ZERO sex drive, which makes getting pregnant a little difficult.

2. I'm depressed. All I want to do is sleep. I've quit falling asleep in front of my classes, but only barely. Whenever I'm home I nap, lie on the couch, and play on the computer. I barely have the energy to cook, clean, or do anything around the house. I do some long-distance running, but I only do it once or twice a week because I can't find the energy to work out during the week. I have no excuse. I have no one else to take care of.

3. I keep gaining weight. I know that working out more and eating less would help, but honestly, I'm not really eating that much. I'm drinking lots of calories, though...

4. I drink too much. Not alcoholic too much, just too often. Too many calories. Too much dehydration for running. Also not helpful with trying to get pregnant. Without exercise it is the one way that I can get some relief from the stress and craziness.

5. I don't have much energy for my job. Some days I just don't care. I think that it's about the lack of energy. All I want to do is sleep or read or leave school somehow. I hate it. I'm not lazy. I really like what I do. I just don't have any energy.

So. Whine, whine, whine.

A trip to the endocrinologist today

Thinks my testosterone is too high. Thinks that I do have PCOS (thought maybe not before). Wants me to take Metformin. Should help me get pregnant. Also have thyroid issues that are being treated.

I'm really nervous about this. I'm not really sure why. Maybe because they weren't sure about PCOS before, although it was always a possibility. Didn't want to be hasty. If it doesn't work or it's clear that it's not helping I can stop taking it. And it might help.

Argh. And at the same time, crossing my fingers.

No. I don't have any news.

We've been trying to get me pregnant since last spring. Spring a year ago. We did take a few months off last fall when hubby got depressed, but otherwise, we've been doing all the things that you're supposed to. And I'm still not pregnant.

There are approximately 1 million reasons I might not be. I've been to the doctors and all that, so I'm doing what I can do. All I really want to share is that I'm waiting and waiting and waiting, either to pee on a stick or for my period to come. Again.

I hate this. I hate waiting. I wish I could know rather than getting my hopes up for two weeks and then have them crushed. Oh well. It could be worse. I'm just whining.

I outed myself

I am stupid. I commented on a friend's blog--my sister-in-law's friend. I didn't sign out as Constance and so it links to this blog... DUMBASS. I don't mind her here and if she links through, Hi! Welcome to Crazy Town. Yes, this is Middle Sister. Needed a place to vent about craziness, including my mom.


Has anyone else done this? I usually make my Constance comments all at once and then sign out before commenting on "real" blogs. But I am forgetful. And dumb.

Depression

I'm not doing all that well right now. I feel useless and lack energy most days even though I'm eating well and exercising. I'm managing to hang on and not cry too often. It's been a day or two. And see below for the irritability that I've been dealing with.

Hubby, on the other hand, is a huge mess. In almost 8 years I've never seen him this bad. He's changing meds and is trying to make an appointment with a talk therapist. In the meantime, he is having a terrible time. He can barely function and he's miserable because he hates being this way. He's having panic attacks and is crying. I feel completely helpless. It sucks.

We have been talking a lot lately. Constantly. That's probably the best thing in all of this.

We're thinking that (if it doesn't happen this month) we'll put off trying to get pregnant, at least until this summer. We need some time to be mentally stable again. And we want to try to save some more money. I know that you can never have enough, be "ready" enough, be financially prepared enough, but... when we're having actual panic attacks it's probably time to postpone.

Baby-Making

So, the fun continues. We both have a hard time performing on command, honestly. We're enjoying it when we do it, though. This is the third month. According to my calculations I can test on Thursday. I'm hopeful, even though the last week was very physically stressful. But I won't be crushed if it doesn't happen. I know this isn't always easy.

I'm also terrified that we're doing the wrong thing. As in, trying for a baby. A whole new wave of doubts has swallowed me up. I keep thinking we'd be terrible and miserable and start to hate each other. And mostly--ruin our child's life.

And don't get me started on certain people informing me that I am a cavalier and careless person if I don't have an abortion if my as-yet-unconceived child happens to have a birth defect. See below about the "story" about the kid who's having (allegedly) surgery without anesthesia. Jeez. I thought my mom was bad about saying unsupportive things. But also, that I wouldn't have thought through what it might be like to have a sick child. To be a sick child. I'm almost as insulted by being called thoughtless as I am as being told what I need to do. By someone who just doesn't understand my situation, or perhaps anyone's situation other than her own.

And who tells someone they need to have an abortion?!?