In which I complain...

My students have to write words with affixes on their homework something like this:
graceful: means "full of" grace

We sometimes practice identifying affixes for imaginary words just for practice.  Like:
bitterful: means "full of" bitter

(No.  That is not an example I've used with my students.  Sigh...)



I'm so angry.  This year.  This night.  In general.  And it doesn't matter how many self-help blogs and books I read.  Or how much I tell myself that I'm grateful for what I do have.  Or how I tell myself it could always be worse.

My boobs have been hurting like crazy for the last couple of days.  A lot.  And that should be something worth getting excited about except I wrote those symptoms down on the exact same CDs in September and December.  (I even wrote a note to myself in December, "Don't get excited about this.  It doesn't mean anything.")  And I'm not out yet.  Not until this weekend.  But here's the problem- this cycle feels the same as January feels the same as December feels the same as November...

How will I ever get pregnant if I can't stop thinking all the time?  How will I ever "de-stress" and better my chances at having a healthy body if I literally can't stop worrying?

Who am I going to be at the end of all of this?  This experience has changed something about me as a person just as my dad dying when I was fifteen changed me and just as my mom getting diagnosed with cancer the same year changed me.  I am changed.  I don't like who these things have made me.  I am bitter and cynical and negative.  I complain.  I don't like who I am.

I know I would be a great parent if I ever got the chance, but I don't know how much farther down the rabbit hole the process of trying to become a parent is going to take me.

I want to be naive and young and happy and not worry anymore.  I am sad when I realize that there may never be any going back to who I was before we started trying to get pregnant.  Maybe if I come out on the other side, with our kids to show for it, I'll be able to look back on the entire thing and grow from it.  Then again, if you ask me, I'd tell you there is absolutely no reason to not have a dad---no amount of life lessons learned or compassion gained or wise owl BS to be had for the experience.  I can tell you that there's nothing I've taken away from my mom's cancer that has improved my outlook on life.  I can only say that those two experiences were incredibly painful to watch and absolutely terrifying to live through.

I wonder if that's how I'll describe this situation when I look back on it.