Friday afternoon (CD 32) after feeling really broken, I started to see red blood. it materialized into a short little period, but it was better than nothing and I don't think I need to fly to Boston to have my cervix poked at with sharp little scissors. Hallelujah. I ordered some vitex to see if I can't try to re-regulate my cycle a little, here goes nothing.
So I was recently wondering if maybe I didn't need to see a therapist anymore. I have survived the past year with most of my sanity intact. Well, we spent the weekend with some really nice friends and I realized that I really have a lot of anger to work through and have to talk it out with someone neutral.
Long story short, my friends recently purchased a new house. Let's just say they are well off. But we learned there was a lot of financial drama leading to the purchase of their new home. Now some of it was legitimately stressful, involving threats from contractors to put a lien on their old home, financing difficulties, all of the day to day business in life that can truly bring you down. But going beyond the issue that these are pretty first-world problems, the whole time they are relaying this story to me and my husband, and using terms like "devastating" and "stressful" and "worst experience of my life," I am trying to nod my head slowly and emphatically, but really I'm thinking "Jesus, get a real problem. You are living in a house that cost nearly nine-hundred-thousand dollars. Want to experience devastation? Try growing a baby in my uterus a few times" And then I felt guilty about even thinking such ugliness, because if I am being honest, my husband and I have provided a comfortable (though not nearly as lavish) existence for Niblet, all while I advocate for people with some really fucked up financial problems, like "Do I pay the electric bill or do I buy food for my kids?" kind of problems..... So who am I to even have such obnoxious thoughts.
All of this long-winded diatribe goes to say is that I am carrying so. much. anger. It's really dangerous territory to walk around feeling like your shitty experiences entitle you to more stress and anger than other people's shitty experiences.