Pee

Just as I was thinking about writing about sadness, Karen posted something about sadness. Weird. Eerie actually because that keeps happening.

I haven't had a chance to write and I have been craving it. Of course by now I have forgotten everything I wanted to say.

I had a scary dream, a dream about my own mortality. This is the first time in my life I have had a dream like that. I know my thoughts about my own death have changed since having a child, because now I really can't die, and not because of my own will to live, but for someone else. But that dream led to another dream about having more kids, or rather not being able to.

I (we rather) want more kids. At least one other one, maybe two. And I am suddenly starting to panic that it might not work. It has made me realize that I think about having another as if it were a sure thing and that is not a good way to think. I thought that I had learned my lesson about planning and waiting and wanting, but I guess not. I use the notion of "another kid" to help me get through the nostalgia I am already feeling for Anise. Instead of confronting the sadness of Anise never being tiny again, or never fitting into that cute dress ever again, I shrug it off and think "there will be another one". As if I will relive this whole experience again. Or as if to relive giving birth again, but this time it will go the way I wanted it to go.

I dream of having a family, and in my fantasy that includes more than one child. But I have a family, and I almost couldn't have one child. Recently I have been reliving the pain of the four years we struggled with infertility. I don't know what triggered it, and it should be behind me now, but I am afraid I will relive it again. The pain was insidious it was there all the time, and it turned to anger and frustration mixed in with hope and optimism which led to even more pain.

I had 3 miscarriages, all conceived on my own, after having taken a while to get pregnant. But for me the miscarriages weren't that bad because they brought hope. The worst was waiting every month. Every month that I didn't conceive was another miscarriage. Then the IVF. I hated it because by then I had lost my optimism and I was bitter. But then it worked! Out of that bitterness came immense joy. We were very lucky amongst the unlucky. What if it doesn't work next time?

Why am I thinking of that now? Where is this sadness coming from? Something isn't feeling right. Is it just plain old stress? I have a lot of concerts coming up and a lot of work to do, and now work is impossible because Anise doesn't nap any more and is at an age where she needs a lot of attention. I feel like I am questioning my whole career too much, I feel I am in limbo. I wish I could decide, either quit and do something else, or continue with my work but be happy with it.

My mom is now here so that I could do some work, but I am sneaking off to write this instead. My dog (who has fleas) just peed in the house when I was gone and Anise just crawled in it. Nice.

I guess I better go.