Whimsically Crazy

Still pretty much not crazy, and I think that actually means something now that we’re a good ways into winter.

The last few months have been a roller coaster. I had a day of doctor’s appointments in November, which despite the reason for taking the day off work, turned out to be a really good day. The appointments were positive. The day was sunny and between doctors I took a walk to Broadway in search of chocolate banana bread and got a call from Andrew with news – he got a job offer! A job offer, and the possibility of a second, better job offer coming.

It was our moment of finally knowing Everything Is Going To be Okay. The path to quitting my job became visible. We started making plans of paying off credit cards, and replacing things in need of replacing and gym memberships and such. My gastroenterologist had suggested I find an OB that she can work with and my bakery got its first order from the soup place, both that same day. While neither were directly related, Andrew finding a job felt like the mental block that was keeping me from progressing in my plans of starting a business and getting pregnant.

Less than a week later the job offer was rescinded.

The second, better offer didn’t come through.

The universe pretty much slapped us in the face and said everything is NOT going to be okay.

I didn’t feel much like writing when this happened. My mom kept reminding me to be supportive, and I hoped I was being supportive but wished for a place to whine on the side.

Now a roller coaster might not be the best metaphor for life, since in life you want things to end ‘up’. In December the company that took back the job offer originally was able to offer a new one. We were both afraid to get too hopeful until he actually walked through the door his first day. In a way it felt like we used up all the excitement the first time around.

But things are on their way to being better now. Around the same time I was given our largest client at work and my job started eating my life. I could have used this distraction months ago but not now that I’m looking for an escape route! I gave myself the unofficial goal to last another year, if I don’t have an official Good Reason to quit before then. Then I changed that to reevaluating things around my birthday.

At the New Year I announced that 2012 was a year of waiting, and 2013 will be a year of action. So it’s February and not too much action has happened yet, but the tarot Colin read at Chocolati last week also said that things are going to start happening whether I think I have a say or not.

I’ve known that there is an etiquette to announcing a pregnancy. Because miscarriages are so common in the first trimester you don’t want to announce it to anyone that you wouldn’t want to have to announce a miscarriage to later. I’ve also understood that to mean that you can tell close friends and family, anyone you would expect to support you if it happened.

I’ve more recently learned that there’s another level to this – the super early positive pregnancy test that could fail before it even counts as a real pregnancy, a “chemical pregnancy”.

Three days ago I started spotting again. Last cycle (my first “normal” one since going off the pill) I had six days of spotting before my period started outright. Since “implantation spotting” is supposed to last a day or two at most, that means like most things this time could be a good or bad sign. When it was still going on today I took it as a bad sign and resolved to make an appointment to figure out what’s wrong with me.

I took a test anyway, like I have for the last three days (Obsessive Testers Anonymous?) and went back to bed. When I woke up for real, there was a faint shadow… my first “evaporation line”. I felt crampy and was sure at this point my period was starting early, but I took another test and let it sit while I showered. This time there was a faint pink line.

PINK LINE

I got two more pink lines throughout the day, just to make sure I wasn’t going crazy. Although I am going crazy, waiting until tomorrow to see if this one sticks. (And the next day, and on…) I’m still not convinced that there isn’t something wrong with me too.

They always say there’s no such thing as “kind of” pregnant, but here I am… I’m officially kind of pregnant.

Andrew this evening said, “I held a baby for the first time today.”

After a bit of back and forth where he assured me that it was really his first time holding a baby, ever, he said,

“It was scary. But then I realized it was like holding a giant Morgan.”

I’m going to update my ‘still not crazy’ mantra to ‘still no blood’. (I call this TMI-blog for a reason.) Day 47.

Another feature of this Mystery Cycle #3 was a good ten days of spotting, half of which was too heavy for a cute name like ‘spotting’ but if I changed it to ‘light’ the chart interpreted it as a new cycle. It was heavy for spotting but light for a period, and I know it wasn’t my period being too early, too light, and magically cramp free.

I’m moving up my testing date to tomorrow since I have the day off, but I’m much less hopeful now for for a positive. My temperatures are low and it seems like these super long cycles are likely a result of the kind of birth control I was on. That means more waiting, waiting, waiiiiiting…

I’m allowed to be emotional about election stuff. I should make myself a list of things I’m allowed to be emotional about for reference.

I had planned to make a big deal about going off the pill, take a picture of the empty pack before symbolically throwing it in the trash. I should also know better than to try to plan something for show. What really happened was halfway through the off week I just decided I was done. I didn’t go off the pill so much as I didn’t start again and the nearly full pack sits in my desk drawer because I hate to throw out good pills just in case.

I have seriously been unhappy with the early pumpkin spice latte availability this year. They was supposed to be my thing to look forward to in the cold/dark/depressing time of year and it’s just not the same when when it’s only a self-imposed restriction keeping me from having one in September. However I had my first yesterday. It’s October now at least.

Oh yeah, $5 worth of latte, syrup, and whipped cream. That’s not going to be an everyday thing cost or calorie-wise. I wish there were more self-comforts/rewards which didn’t involve money or food.

“No, it’s not story time.”

I feel like I’m talking to one of the cats with that line, but I think it actually goes, “Sorry Merlin, not bedtime” as he follows me hopefully into the bedroom every time I wander that direction in the evenings.

After I announced myself as Officially Crazy to Selina by email, Monday afternoon sometime around 2:30-3, I declined to go into details. “Not story time.” Mostly because it’s embarrassing, and partially because it’s too hard to write into detail from my phone which is what I have to work with these days while I’m at work.

Well ‘Officially Crazy’ was marked by my first time spontaneously breaking into tears, as I was coming back from lunch. (Of course at the end of my lunch, so I had to get myself back together ASAP and try to look normal at my desk and get through the afternoon.)

And get through the week.

And etc.

So she sent me this recipe for Emotioinal Breakdown Cupcakes (which is totally appropriate since I’ve been wanting to make cupcakes just for baking therapy.) My first thought glancing at it from my phone was, “Wow that [recipe] looks crazy… no pun intended.”

Then reading the story, I actually got a little tense with recognition of that feeling. Not exactly the same experience of course – I’ve never had to make baklava in the middle of the night – but if I had to pick a specific incident there was not being able to find the wasabi while making wasabi salmon. I remember Andrew walking over and just calmly started putting things back in the fridge after I had pulled them out all over the floor and in the back of my head thinking, “wow he’s gotten good at this.”

I had to stay up write this at 1am or it’d never get written. At least it’s a better reason to not sleep than staying up all night organizing my sarongs. But tomorrow’s not Friday either, as much as it’s felt like it should be all day.

“Sorry Merlin, not weekend.”

Pumpkin spice lattes are out and it’s too soon, like Christmas sales in October.

I refuse to let myself buy one early because I still need something to look forward to when it’s no longer iced latte weather.

I don’t like these signs that summer is ending prematurely.

• Back to school sales
• A very orange, very autumn-y Maine leaf posted on Facebook
• Andrew closing the windows before going to bed.
• 60s in the weather forecast and I haven’t felt the 70s that were promised this week.

Apparently we had a heat wave and it seemed to last just long enough for people to start complaining, but I must have spent the majority of it involuntarily inside because I certainly didn’t get my fill of the weather.

I have real reasons to mourn the end of summer again this year. My first winter on lithium was nothing short of a miracle to me. It was halfway through the season when I became consciously aware that so much time had passed and my biggest complaint had been… it’s cold. Since then I’ve kind of gotten used to not being functionally useless – depression I could practically plan for through part of the year – and even get a little excited over the availability of pumpkin spice lattes.

It’s really easy to pretend everything is normal while I’m off my meds when I intentionally stopped in my best part of the year. It’s a little scary to realize what may be coming for me again, especially without the reassurance that everything is going to be okay otherwise.

Wow, I’m amazingly good at collecting words in my head and procrastinating through all the time I actually have to write them.

Lately I’ve been going through the archives of the blog Ask a Manager. Being work related, even if not my work related, makes it feel more legit than the usual internet timesuck.