I am in a bitter bitter mood this afternoon, for really no reason at all. I’m sure it has something to do with hormones - I am pumping myself full of 300mg of progesterone a day, that’s got to be affecting me somehow (other than the unbeLIEVably sore boobs). I got off work a little early to come home and prepare for our trip to New York (we leave tomorrow) and I’ve been in a bad mood ever since I set foot in the door.
Part of it is the cats. The kittens have ceased being merely “cute” and “playful” and are now unholy terrors of destruction, especially Jethro. He knocks EVERYTHING over, claws the leather couches, chews on stuff and terrorizes the dogs. I just caught him going to town on the arm of our leather chair and hadn’t noticed before just how much he’s manage to shred it. Fucker. Millie isn’t so bad, but she’s still prone to fits of frenzy where she tears around the living room at top speed, leaping from couch to table to floor, making you fear for your life as she rips across your lap or shoulders.
Also, we have one of those motorized litterboxes, which was great when we just had one cat. Even fifteen pound Cooper at her worst never backed that thing up like the kittens do. They go to the bathroom like twenty times a day and have worn the motor down so that it can barely run a full cycle. I think they go just for fun. There’s NO WAY they have to pee that many times a day. And Millie will get in there and dig for TWENTY MINUTES, kicking litter out all over the floor and piling it up so the motorized grate can’t pass through it. I have to tend to that fucking litterbox ten times a day to make sure it’s not jammed.
Then there’s the fact that I am just over halfway through my two week wait to see if I’m pregnant. It’s so hard. I go through a roller coaster every day - one minute I’m super confident, absolutely sure it worked, the next minute I’m in a pit of despair because I’m sure it didn’t. I’m so much in my head these days it makes me selfish in other parts of my life. I’m distracted at work, so I leave early. I can’t talk to friends because I’m not present in my conversations with them, so I am avoiding everyone. I call Hawk in the middle of his work day so that he can talk me down or give me a pep talk. I hate it. It will all be worth it - if it works. If it doesn’t…well, if it doesn’t, we’ll deal with it and try again. That’s all you can do, right?
It’s been a while since I had to deal with this “two week wait” bullshit. It brings out every part of my control-freak nature that I hate. Logically, I know that there’s NOTHING I can do, that there’s really NO WAY for me to know, at this point, whether it worked or not. I just have to wait until Monday and then I can test. But instead I search my body for any little twinge or difference that might somehow give me a sign that I’m pregnant. I have to remind myself that checking my cervical position ten times a day or poking my breasts to see if they are tender makes NO DIFFERENCE whatsoever in the outcome of a pregnancy test that I can’t take for another five days. All it does is drive me insane. I feel like an addict - I know I shouldn’t do these things but I can’t help it. On the bright side, at least I know myself well enough to recognize in myself the controlling behaviors and do what I can to try to stop them. It’s hard though. The voices in my head can be pretty loud.
Anyway, our trip to New York will be a welcome distraction from the waiting and the anxiety. I’ve never been to New York before, so there will be lots to see and do, and I’m looking forward to seeing our friend Aaron. We’re going to go to the Natural History Museum, and I really want to go to the Magnolia Bakery for a cupcake (I’m such a girl). Whatever happens with the test on Monday, good or bad, I will face with with my husband, but until then I can have some fun.
