Yesterday, after DH called me and told me he was on his way home from work, I put on my favorite pajama dress (If you don’t have a pajama dress, get one. Look for a dress that is so comfortable that you can sleep in it, literally. Then, you can “stay in pajamas” even while you’re dressed — all you have to do is add shoes and brushed hair!) and watched Arrested Development.
Yes, on purpose. Because the title was dark and ironic and apropos. At first, it was almost like punishment. Then, I actually started laughing — Buster cracks me up, especially when he fights with Annyoung.
I watched until DH came home, then cried a bit more. Then, watched another episode and felt better.
Then, I drank a beer. Yay for that. Which inspired a series of not funny jokes that started to seem funny the more I drank. Yes, I was a wee bit tipsy off of one Bud Light Lime. I’m not ashamed to say it. The jokes went like this, “I can’t get pregnant, but I can drink this entire beer in my pajamas at 4 in the afternoon.” I kept making the jokes about everything and finally DH joined in.
Then I wrapped my stepson’s birthday presents and cried again.
Then, I started thinking of what song I’d like to dedicate to my body on Delilah’s radio show. Britney’s “Toxic”? From Wicked, the “What is this feeling?” (The loathing song)? Or maybe a remix of Lush’s Ladykillers into Babykiller?
I know. I know. It’s not funny. But it is, kinda. Finding humor in this is helping me feel better. I told DH this morning that as I went to sleep last night I chanted all the things I have to be grateful for. It’s so easy to focus on the thing that we don’t have and then we forget what we do.
I don’ t have any answers about babies. I couldn’t bring myself to call the RE’s office today and say the words Failed IVF Appointment (which always echoes around in my brain when I think those words).
I did buy and send a book about adoption to my phone. I’ll make the phone calls I need to make when I can.