a very Grinchy Christmas…and a hopeful 2014

31 Dec

I feel like I need to apologize to everyone who I was in contact with in the past month or so.  I have been a disaster.  I knew it was happening, but I felt like I was on the outside looking in, unable to control what I was doing or how I was feeling.


About a week or two before Christmas, I got myself into a funk and couldn’t snap out of it.  “I must stop this Christmas from coming…but how?”  The Grinch’s line played in my head.  I did my best to put on a smile and suck it up–I am a firm believer that when you feel sad, you get sadder, and it spirals downward from there.  So I put up our Christmas trees, made cookies (we won’t talk about how long it took me to actually frost them), wrapped Eric’s presents and made a Christmas countdown to un-Grinchify him.  I really tried.  I pretended.   We had some fun times, don’t get me wrong, but this Christmas had a pervasive air of blah for me.


Growing up in a big family  on a kid farm, there were ALWAYS kids around at Christmastime.  I have linked kids and Christmas in my head, and this year that became evident as I braced to face another holiday childless and found myself sinking into a pretty deep depression.  When I first started to get sad, I told myself to knock it off, that we’ve done this already a bunch so I should be used to it.  But when I took the time to actually reflect, I realized why this year hit me so much harder.  Our first year trying, we were only a couple of months in.  No big deal, we’ve got this.  Year two, I was upset, but also still in denial that we were going to need medical interventions.  I had just recently started Met, which was supposed to fix me (according to my 1st dr, the new one said she didn’t know why they would ever have told me that).  So I was still mostly optimistic.  Last year, we were actually taking a much-needed break from all of the trying.  Mentally, I had become a basket case, so we took a break starting in November, I trained for and ran a marathon (forced penance for my body’s refusal to do what it should) and promptly went off the pill in May.  We spent the spring/summer undergoing various tests that took way longer than they should have and were supposed to increase our odds without actually medicating me, but that never happened.  I was confident when I started on actual medical treatments in the fall that we would be telling our families we were finally pregnant by Christmas at the latest.  In my head, I had not thought of anything beyond Christmas because in my head I didn’t need to.  So finding myself here and unpregnant and seemingly no closer to being pregnant was pretty devastating.


So Christmas sucked a little bit.  I had taken another round of fake hormones that did not do anything to my ovaries, but did make me bloaty, bitchy and break-outy (the 3 b’s haha).  I found out at Christmas that it hadn’t worked.  Not cool.  I moped, I was bitchy, I laid around all day, I sobbed in the shower a lot, I researched my issues, and on one occassion almost didn’t make it to a run because I had a meltdown and ended up in bed sobbing instead of changing into my running clothes like I had gone upstairs to do.  To be fair, I felt much better after that cry.


I woke up this morning, though, and I was ready to get home and start getting back to normal.  Ready to clean the house (about time), ready to make dinner again (we won’t talk about the serious lack of nutrition that’s been going on in our house recently), and ready to start exercising again (we’ll see how that goes when it’s single-digit temperatures this week).  The important thing is that for the first time in a long time now, I’ve felt a little more like myself.  A little more like I’m living my life and not watching it from the outside.  That’s not to say that I’m not still sad, too.  Just that I am feeling a little better about things, and it’s nice to feel even a little more ok about life.  I think part of that may be that I know that this cycle is most definitely not going to work, so I can breath again until I start my next cycle.  I mean, there’s still a small chance this one could work, but I’m not holding out hope anymore. 


I have a 50k training plan ready to go, starting with a run tomorrow with friends.  We are revisiting vegetarisnism at home (but not worrying about it if we are out for dinner or out at friends’ houses), which means trying some new recipes, which is exciting to me.  We are going on a snowshoeing trip in the winter, camping so Eric can report for Trail Runner Magazine for Cayuga Trails 50s, hopefully camping on our island again, possibly taking a cross-country road trip, if not cross-country, then maybe a tour of the east coast, celebrating 5 very eventful years of marriage, watching #TrailsRoc grow even more than it already has (if that’s possible ha), I am turning dirty 30 (complete with a bounce house–unless i am pregnant, in which case we’ll have to postpone the bounce house a bit ha), and maybe running either an ultra or another marathon…  Tomorrow, we are running into 2014.  I’m ready.  2014 is going to be a great year, I can feel it.


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