This week has been a slightly emotional one for me.
I got back from my workshop Sunday in high spirits, but exhausted. Monday I kind of took it easy, tried to write some (successful) and get into some kind of schedule. If there’s one thing I need in order to stay sane, it’s a schedule. I was feeling kind of sick Monday, and I had a sneaking thought in the back of my head that there was an underlying reason for my nausea, so I took a HPT. No dice. That kind of put me in a sour mood the rest of the day, and I didn’t much feel like doing anything afterward.
Tuesday was pretty low-key, too. Still feeling crappy because of my negative result the day before, but I had errands to run, so I at least got out of the house. While I was picking out bananas at the grocery store, I got a call from my recruiter saying that she had an interview lined up for me IN Woodstock at an IT company, and wanted to know if the next day was good for me. My hopes had been restored, and I agreed. I went home and checked out the company and made sure I’d be ready for my interview.
Wednesday – the day of the interview. It was scheduled for 1:00, but it’s only 3 miles away, so I left 15 minutes before the interview, knowing that it should have been plenty of time to get there and even sit in the parking lot. Until I got off the exit and saw there were TWO LANES blocked on the road I needed to be on. And of course, there were assholes everywhere, trying to inch their way to the front of an already slow-moving line, just making the traffic worse. I panicked, because I could see where I needed to turn but couldn’t get there. I could’ve walked there faster. I ended up being 15 minutes late, and I was utterly embarrassed. When I walked in and said I had a 1:00 interview, and the girl at the desk looked down at her notes and said they weren’t expecting me until 3:00, but that another Ashley was scheduled at 1:00, and she didn’t show (not sure whose fault THAT was, but certainly not mine). I was able to come in and have my interview right then, but only got 15 minutes because there was another scheduled at 1:30. Right off the bat I could tell this douche wasn’t interested in me. And I’m not calling him a douche out of spite that he didn’t hire me. He clearly didn’t even read my resume, asking me about jobs that weren’t listed there, and he didn’t use eye contact, another pet peeve of mine. I left, thinking if he calls me back it’ll be a miracle, but I sent a handwritten thank-you note anyway.
Yesterday – (male readers beware) I had a doctor’s appointment to follow-up on my concerns about being able to conceive. I went in really nervous about what the doctor would tell me, but I’m the kind of person that likes to be informed, even if it’s bad news. Of course, in the waiting room, I sat next to a teenage girl who was there with I assume to be her boyfriend, and she was about to pop. The only clue I had was his Woodstock High School sweatsuit, but I assumed they were students, and made up some story about how they got too drunk at a party last spring and poof! she’s pregnant.
Anyway, I told the new doctor what’s been going on with me and my reason for visiting, and she said (basically) that I need to monitor my cycle as best I can so she has a better idea of what could be wrong. In February (our year mark), if I still haven’t conceived, she wants me to come back in for fertility testing and see about putting me on Clomid. They did some bloodwork and I’m (im)patiently awaiting to hear if they found anything wrong right away. I’ve never been a hypochondriac until now, and I’ve Googled everything that could possibly be wrong with me. I came home from the appointment feeling hopeless, like I had a timeline of four months to conceive or else I’m clinically considered someone who’s “struggling with infertility.” I know that’s not the case, but there’s not a whole lot someone can say to console that feeling of “not being good enough.” I called a friend, (in fact, the one who jump-started my desire to have children when her daughter was born in February), and she said something that helped a lot – “When you do finally get pregnant, you won’t have that squeamish feeling of “do I want this baby?”, or “Should I be happy?” “You’ll have wanted that day for so long, that you’ll appreciate every moment, and you’ll be able to tell them that you wanted them, that they were the best thing to ever happen to you, and it’ll be true.”
What I’ve decided is that if/when I finally do have a baby, I will not be going back on birth control pills between the first and second pregnancy, and definitely not going back on them afterward. That stuff screws with the body so much, and I wish I had known all the affects a year or two ago when I knew Oscar would be the man I wanted to marry and have children with. But, there’s nothing I can do about it now except wait and hope that one day, I’ll get to hop up and down when I see a positive result.
My week got a little better this morning after waiting in line for two hours at the Georgia Department of Labor. I received a letter from them yesterday saying I had a week from Monday to come in and put myself back in the system (a glitch, apparently), and that I had to come by or else my claim would be cancelled. I got to the office before it even opened, thinking I was planning ahead, but I still had about 30 or so people in front of me. After all that waiting, my name was finally called and I was told that my claim has been re-opened until next spring.
Maybe spring of 2010 will be an all-around new beginning for me.