Moments

it's kind of hard to type with a kitten sitting in between you and your laptop, happily purring away, but I am attempting to try.

So I gave Fresh and Easy the what-for today on facebook.  They have these new cinnamon-coated almonds, which looked really yummy in the bag, but nearly broke my tooth in real life.  I think dentists secretly created them to drum up business.

I've kind of taken off the last two days of writing my book.  I've been engrossed in a
Tim Dorsey book.  I even woke up two hours early this morning to find out who the FBI informant was.  I'm going to quit being lame and lazy like that tomorrow, though.

I watched Millionaire Matchmaker today.  Seriously, how much ass does that show kick?  But it's like really sweet and thick chocolate - you have to be careful not to overdo it.  I watched it for an hour today, and I think I'm done for another 34 years.

So I have been thinking about getting pregnant again - how much I hope it happens quickly, and how I'm excited for something else to look forward to besides just being miserable.  Even being afraid (which is, I'm sure, pretty much how I will spend the entirety of my next pregnancy) seems appealing these days.  I'm frustrated though, in the current state of the trying to conceive phase.  Last year at this time, when we had first started trying, I was so carefree and nonchalant about the whole thing.  I didn't know what pregnancy symptoms were, I didn't know what it was like to be pregnant, I didn't know anything.  Now I'm hyper-aware of every feeling of nausea, every time I'm tired, every time I feel hormonal... you name it, I'm watching it.

I don't know how to un-know these symptoms.  I don't know how to un-know something that I know already.  I don't know that I'll ever get that carefree innocence back.  And to be honest, I don't know if I'd even want to.  I feel naive and stupid looking back at myself last year now.  When I thought that if you got pregnant, it meant that you were having a baby for sure.  When I didn't know how many terrifying ways there are for babies to die.  When I didn't know what this kind of pain felt like.

Would I want to go back to that?  I don't think so.  I'm wiser now, which has made me more compassionate and empathetic.  You don't get wisdom without going through some shit, and I'm glad I have this wisdom now.  I'm glad I know that babies can die.  Because I think that when I'm pregnant again, I want to go into it with my eyes open.  Not so that I can be terrified and depressed, but so that I can appreciate every minute that I'm pregnant.

I vow that I will never complain about morning sickness.  I will never complain about insomnia.  I will embrace those symptoms because they will mean that I'm pregnant, and for that moment I'm pregnant, and that's all you have.  Really, that's all anybody has - this moment.  Then you get another moment.  And eventually, if you're lucky, you get 9 months worth of moments that add up to a healthy baby.  And if you're really lucky, you get 80 or 90 years worth of moments that add up to a fulfilling life. But this moment, right now, this is all that I have.  It's all you have.  It's all anybody has.

Hubby is spending this moment playing Gran Turismo, his very favorite video game.  I am spending this moment on the couch with him and two purring cats; and in this moment, I am very sad, but life is still good.