Well, I had a great run with positivity, but I have been in a funk since last night that just doesn't seem to want to go away.
I was fine all day, looking forward to our Friday Night Mexican date, and thoroughly enjoyed my favorite special for dinner -- Cochinita Pibil (I think it translates to "little pig in the ground" -- it's pork that was slow roasted in a citrus sauce wrapped in banana leaves, served with picked onions and jalapenos, refried black beans with queso fresco, rice, and my favorite fried plantains).
Then we went to Targ.et.
I am so lucky -- we don't have cable, we don't watch a whole lot of TV, I haven't been to the mall in months and months, and most radio I listen to is NPR (which has limited commercials). So I have been spared the Mother's Day onslaught.
Tar.get wasn't too bad, either, but we went to buy our cards and I was in such a good mood I forgot about the effect Mother's Day card shopping has on me. You know, because we're all in the adoption process and feeling hopeful but accepting our life as is while we wait, yada yada yada.
That didn't create as much of a protective shield as I thought (I'm sure the margaritas didn't help on this score, either), and after looking for cards for my own mother and grandmother and helping Bryce pick one out for his mother, I couldn't help but see all the ones that could apply to me but STILL DON'T: to you from your husband...to you from your kids...the First Mother's Day section...and the ones for Expectant Moms.
WHERE IS MY FUCKING CARD? I looked and looked and there doesn't seem to be one for people who have been trying to have a baby for nearly 7 years with absolutely no success and who are in an adoption wait that could end in weeks or end in years. No one cares if you're expecting but have no due date, no endpoint to your wait, and it's all just so filled with mystery and suspense.
I started to get cranky, and sad, and then started actually looking at the First Mother's Day cards because apparently, I hate myself.
Then I walked away, and because I looked visibly upset, Bryce asked, "What's wrong?"
Well, I didn't answer that very nicely at all. "WHAT DO YOU THINK IS WRONG? IT'S MOTHER'S DAY CARDS again! It's my SEVENTH FUCKING MOTHER'S DAY without being a part of it as an honoree, and I am feeling FUCKING HOPELESS right now!"
That could have gone better. I could have just said, "Mother's Day" and that would have been sufficient.
And so our evening spiraled quickly down the toilet, because I became very sad, and when I get very sad, before I turn into a sobbing puddle I get very testy and angry because it's easier to lash out than it is to be vulnerable and cry. It's not my best trait. I am fortunate that Bryce is a patient man. He basically sent me to bed when we got home, to get a fresh start.
I didn't do so well with that, either.
I went into the nursery this morning, after being sad upon waking up (because Mother's Day... I can't be sad next weekend because I'm celebrating my birthday, you know, the 40th one, and so I guess I'm trying to get it all out now before it taints my celebration).
Let me be clear -- the nursery did not make me sad.
I went in there because I was doing laundry, and I need to wash the changing pad cover and change it out because before Lucky got his teeth removed (incidentally, that went amazingly well and he is SUCH A HAPPY CAT), he was drooling a lot and the drool on the changing pad and my office chair pad tipped us off that we needed him seen ASAP, because it wasn't clear and it stained. Yes, I know it's gross that his teeth came out a while ago and I haven't washed the changing pad. Sue me. No one's using it (except the cat).
While I was in there, I decided that I should go through our goodie bag that we got when we signed up to register at the giant triple B baby store, because most of it was formula and breastfeeding supplies and I'd left it on the shelf.
WELL. All but one coupon was expired. The formula was expiring tomorrow. I have absolutely no use for breast pads. I'm sure I could figure one out, but I just don't want to.
This did not improve my mood.
See, we have very limited time left to use our registry completion coupon, the 10% off our entire order. We have a zillion gift cards stored from the showers, and were waiting to buy the stroller and accoutrements until we had the completion piece in place. Which happened in FEBRUARY. We have three months to use it, so that has to happen this week. And part of me is worried that we won't have a place to store the stroller, and I don't want it in my car while we wait because that's just depressing. And we already have a ton of stuff stored that we can't use until a baby shows up.
We will go and buy the stroller. It would be stupid to let the coupon expire.
But I need to adjust my attitude before we go, because I cannot walk into a superstore devoted to the life milestone WE HAVEN'T HIT (although our completion coupon assures us that we must be so happy now that our LIVES HAVE CHANGED FOREVER... sigh), full of pregnant people. I am fairly certain that walking into that store in the state I'm in now would be an outright disaster.
I feel better after exercising, but I'm still sad. I hate the uncertainty. I hate that my goodie bag items expired. I hate that I have been in this cycle of hopeful-disappointed-hopeful-disappointed-hopeful for years, and years, and YEARS. I hate that we already have to update our homestudy, and that I really should get the blackout shades that open and close without cords, because our current shades are bamboo and have cords of death and I'm irrationally sure that those hanging cords will dock us somehow. I know logically they won't, but I want the shades in place before the social worker comes, again, at some unknown date because we haven't received our paperwork for the update yet even though they've had our check for two weeks now. I also hate that there are things my district does for charity that you can have taken out of your paycheck, and I either didn't do it because I thought, "May paychecks? I won't be there in MAY! I'll be home with my baby!" or I paid the Unit.ed Way all at once instead of doing 10 paycheck deductions...for the same reason (although that one's hopefully more realistic that I could actually be out on leave because it goes through December or something).
The wait of all this combined with another Mother's Day coming up just pushed me past the point where I could keep weighing the silver linings over the dark cloud. I cried this morning as I was texting a friend to see if she could use any of the stuff that I can't in my registering goodie bag. I cried tears of jealousy and incredible sadness that yet another one of my friends has entered new motherhood and will celebrate Mother's Day...and I am still waiting. I am super happy for her new motherhood, don't get me wrong. It didn't come easy. I just thought that we'd celebrate Mother's Day as new moms together. I was so hoping that last Mother's Day was the last one where I didn't count, where I shower everyone else with good wishes and stand on the other side of the glass, watching the joy and celebration through the fog of my shuddering breath. Probably turning 40 right before only serves to amplify my feelings.
Sometimes, when this happens, I realize I haven't cried in a really long time. And that maybe this is my mind's way of reminding me that I have been through a lot, and I am mourning all the years I could have been a parent but wasn't, because of infertility. That I can't be Suzy Sunshine all the time, and while the positivity I put out there isn't bullshit, I really do mean it, sometimes the dark side bubbles up and that's okay.
Sometimes, you just need to feel cranky and sad and cry the ugly cry for all you've lost, even while you're waiting for all the pieces to fall into place so that you, too, can celebrate this holiday that really does a good job of excluding people. Someday, I hesitate to put a timeline on it, I'll be on the other side of the glass.