The hard thing

I told the friend I was dreading telling. I knew I was putting off the inevitable, and found that I couldn't respond to another thing she was writing about without telling her. I really do feel horrible, because I thought I understood her pain, only to find that God grants people their wishes many years too late because God's a sick bastard. In a way, I can't help but wonder if the same will hold true for her, whether in her lifetime they'll discover a treatment for her kind of infertility--too late for her, or something similar.

But I wouldn't wish this on anyone. Fatigue that's crippling. Nausea that's round the clock. And half my vacation has been sucked away by medical tests that seem ridiculous to be taking this early. Tomorrow I have glucose testing and an ultrasound, and I've already gotten into one argument with a nurse declaring that I will not take Erythromycin even if she prescribes it so why the hell do I need to be tested for the allergy when I don't even need antibiotics at the moment?

To say nothing of the fact that I just feel absolutely horrible about the whole thing. I'm just waiting for the "You should be happy you're pregnant" shoe to drop from anyone. I might well kick them in the teeth.

Other things I've been ranting about the anonyblog lately include how much I hate pregnancy-oriented advertising, being inundated with bare-pregnant bellies, and wishing I could settle down and find the happy part of this. But mostly, I look around at all the things I wanted to get done this week and didn't, and I want to kick myself in the teeth.

I think I'll just cry. Tomorrow I have to go to DC after the med tests, and put on my extrovert face. But you know what? Right now, I'm about as introverted as I ever get.

What's making me happy is cooking. Being at home all week has been great for just playing with food, and there's something about washing dishes in batches--that usually I hate doing, but right now I enjoy the warm water and the feeling of clean. Baking isn't going so well. I have one more test to run tomorrow to see if it's the yeast or just the fact that I keep the house not much warmer than outside. Right now, I just can't wait to curl up with Dean and just know that we're working on making things better.

So on the list for tomorrow: rubber gloves and a filter mask for changing the litter box, a new mop that has its own wringer, a new mophead for the one that requires wringing, and great big sponges for bathroom cleaning. One thing you can do from the comfort of a couch that won't let you go is plan the attack more coherently then if you just tackle it randomly, and even though I didn't get as much cleaning done as I wanted to, I did come up with some structure for making it happen.

I also fixed the sleeve on my sweater/shell jacket, which had been torn since I got it. (I messed it up opening the box it came in.) Fabric glue, which Dean suggested, seemed to do the trick.

I guess that's enough for now. I'm emotionally drained, feeling my "evening" round of nausea, and completely unprepared for tomorrow.