Managing Expectations

In between some awesomely sunny and warm days we're getting a touch of rain.  I'm hoping this means the strawberries I planted in a half wine barrel last year will finally start coming back.  On the other hand, I did forget to water them many times over our dry winter so I might be out of luck.


Granted, this is no big deal to those whom live in wetter climates, but to me, raised in quasi-desert, it just makes me want to sleep.  and sleep.  and sleep.  Besides, it's pouring.

What fantastic weather for my birthday as I turn 37 and have yet to have a baby in the house.  We started trying for a baby when I was 32 1/2, starting a long and difficult four and a half years with apparently no end in sight.  How ironic to look back at that first year of TTC remembering how we got to our fifth wedding anniversary and I was super excited to be able to drink the wine we had been cellaring since our wedding day because I wasn't pregnant yet. 

It's been about a month since our last update, but I'm not calling for one anymore since any more movement up the list without a match means we're probably being rejected.  We've waited 22 months, 1 week and 5 days and I wonder how it is that we are failing at becoming parents.

If you had asked me in January what I thought my birthday would look like I would have said it includes our son/daughter.  If you had asked me in January what our little family would be doing this coming weekend, I'd be happily telling you that we would be taking our first plane ride with a baby to Arka.nsas for my brother's wedding.  Granted the wedding has been postponed until next year due to their insane schedules.  (Who tries to plan a wedding with one graduating from med school in Litt.le Roc.k and one graduating with a master's degree in Fayett.eville the same semester?)

Managing my expectations for what the next day/week/month brings is becoming impossible.  People, I'm sure think this is good ass-vice: "You'll get the phone call when you give up".  Yeah, because that worked so well for getting pregnant.  "Giving up" or "not thinking about it", or "relaxing"  is so completely not an option.  I don't know what to do with my work schedule and my new supervisor is less than helpful.  I can't give him any kind of timeline anymore because my own personal timeline has been shot to hell.  I don't know what to tell him about the fact that we rearranged my schedule back in March on the assumption that I could pick up with a full workload in late summer and fall.  My entire workload planning will be blown out of the water whether we get matched tomorrow or in August, and that stresses me out. 

I suppose I'm supposed to try to enjoy my birthday.  But why should I?  I'm one year older and no kid.  Every fucking year that ticks by without a kid also means that our window to get a sibling for the kid is closing.  Rapidly.  I can't let go of the fact that I wanted, needed and had to have two kids.  I just can't.

At least I'll get a kick ass birthday dinner at one of the fancy-schmancy restaurants in town tonight.  And wine.  Lots of wine.