Y’all are way too kind.
The comments on my last post were totally undeserved. It’s not courage that led me to pick up the phone and grit my teeth through a stilted conversation with my former friend. It’s my spineless fear of confrontation.
But it’s coming. I feel like it has to. If she’s going to continue to insist on pursuing this friendship, eventually it’s going to have to come out that the way she blindsided me with her pregnancy announcement was not cool.
I’ve never been one to embrace confrontation. More like avoid it at all costs. When the mean kids at school (themselves victims of bullying at one point in their lives, I’m sure) decided to pick on the quiet, nerdy girl with the home perm? I lowered my eyes and did my best to disappear. When parents tell me their insane plans to skyrocket their child’s development (“I just spent $300 on Your Baby Can Read. Do you think it’ll work?”), I do my best to answer diplomatically, instead of bluntly telling them they’ve wasted their money.
All the while, my brain is a pressure cooker. And if a valve bursts? Watch out. Because if you happen to get on my bad side on a day when I’ve already kept too many feelings bottled up, you’re about to be at the wrong end of an explosion.
But I don’t want to do that to D. Especially since more than a month has passed since her news, and if I was going to bitch about it, I probably should have done it then. I have to figure out a way to release this pressure in a slow leak, rather than complete annihilation.
So today, with Dr. N, I discussed writing down everything I want to say to her and either sending it to her in a letter or reading it to her over the phone.
And, believe me, there is soooo much I want to say.
We also discussed whether I would be doing this to end the friendship or try to salvage it. I still don’t know the answer to this one. Something tells me there’s nothing I can do to change her attitude or her responses to the worst fucking thing in my life right now. And I’m not sure I have the energy to try.
In other confronting-my-feelings news, despite my insincere attempts at keeping my expectations realistic for this potentially-last-cycle-with-any-chance-of-residual-sperm, my twisted mind and hopeful heart have convinced me that I am totally pregnant…based on nothing but our valiant attempts at well-timed (yet somehow still fun!) sex. Doesn’t it always work on the very last chance?
Not that it matters. I’m expecting my period this weekend, and the spotting has already started. Bring it on, I guess, so I can plan for starting BCPs in June! (Assuming, of course, we scrape together tens of thousands of dollars by then.)