|by Stacia Elizabeth|
Seems this blog has turned into crybabypity-athon around here lately. Hopefully I'll move it back to stuff like books and urban farming and stuff eventually. I want to say that 2013 will be the year when things start looking better. It has to, right? (Wrong.) But, to be honest, starting 2013 is much harder than starting 2012 was. 2012 was a line in the sand, an attempt to get back on the horse after grief, to gain some steam and patience, to make things all fit together the way we planned. That didn't happen. Looking ahead, the road we're looking at is longer and harder and has higher tolls than the road we were looking hopefully down this time last year. How do you start a new year with hope when reality is telling you there's a lot more pain and hard stuff in store for you that you already see hovering at the horizon?
There are times when I'm going about my day and it hits me that other people get to build families without a thought. Without a blip. It just happens. Poof. That you can say, I want a baby, let's have a baby! and it just...happens. Obviously there's a lot of middle ground there. But still, it's hard to feel so tiredly-confused about how something so seemingly innately easy and mandatory for society would be so difficult for random people.
I want to say that if I just pick my chin up and power through the moving and the next month of being apart from my husband (we did rent out our house, so one stupid-hard thing is taken care of once they move in come February, and we'll no longer have housemates, which is another stupid-hard thing over and done with forever because we will never, ever again make the mistake of getting housemates who have the biological potential to become pregnant seconds after signing the lease -- which I know sounds super mean since they're genuinely nice people, but when the chips fall really shittily for you, sometimes you feel shitty) and of watching renters turn the office into a nursery the way it was always intended, for Patrick to quit his job and start job-hunting for who knows how long and feel bad about being an unemployed lazy-looking-to-the-outside-world husband even though he's doing it because he's an incredibly supportive husband, to power through trying to figure out how to pay for infertility treatments, to power through having one of our dogs live with Patrick's parents until we can find a two-dogs-friendly place to live, to power through the fact that this is all just bone-deep hardness. Missing our friends. That is the 2013 we're looking at. It kind of sucks. Everybody has hard stuff. This is our hard stuff.
But. At least we aren't as delusionally hopeful as we were kicking off 2012. We don't have expectations for 2013 to be the year of kicking ass. There's a lot of potential for it to be another year of wading through shit (that post has kept me sane often, go read it). So that's kind of good to know. We know to put on some life-wellies because the stuff we're going to be wading through is gonna be blah.
More than anything, come February 2013, I will be the happiest lady to simply come home from work in the evening, have a husband waiting for me, so we can cook dinner together and clink our wine glasses to whatever stupid-hard thing is currently being slogged through. Simple stuff, yo.
So 2013. Nice to meet you. You're going to be rough. But it's good to know that. Let's do this.