I don’t know if it’s 3rd trimester fatigue setting in, this cold I’ve had since Thursday, or just feeling like I don’t have much to say, but I’ve been struggling to write this week. I’ve tried. I have several drafts started, but they’re all dead ends.
One of them was about how I gave notice at work on Friday. How I’ve had one foot out the door since September, when Hubby got the job offer. How, even if our guess about when he might get news about the work permit is wrong, I’m not changing my mind this time. I’m done. And how it only occurred to me that day that I’ll be 32 weeks pregnant by my last day of work. And who knows how far along I’ll be by the time we actually move. How scary it is to be moving to a new country that far along in my pregnancy.
We haven’t taken any birthing or parenting classes. We may or may not be able to do so once we get settled in Montreal. And honestly? That’s not my biggest concern about the move right now. Thumper is coming, whether or not Hubby and I learn the anatomy and physiology of her arrival (which I already have a pretty good grasp on) or the proper way to breathe through contractions. I’m more concerned about where she will make her first appearance into the world. (Hopefully not in the car on the way to our new home!)
I have another post started, dating all the way back to the first of the month, about how 2014 should be a year of joy. We have so many good things on the horizon. But, somehow, I’m not able to articulate it the way I want to. For some reason, I have a hard time writing about things going well. I’m great at vomiting out paragraph after paragraph about how much infertility sucks, and how early pregnancy after infertility is hard, and how moving to another country (pregnant or not) is super stressful. But when it comes to counting my blessings, I’m kind of terrible at it. Not that I’m ungrateful. Because I’m not. I am acutely aware of how lucky we are to be experiencing so many good things, one on top of another. And maybe it’s because of that that I can’t write about it. I know, too, that many out there are still struggling. With infertility. With loss. With complicated, high-risk pregnancies.
Of course, I could write about how I’m stressed about money (like, always). Hubby’s computer has been on the fritz, so he spent all weekend researching options for a new one and ended up spending nearly $1,300 on an ultrabook. I know he’s going to need a good computer for his new job, and he used our no-interest-for-a-year credit card, but still. That’s a big chunk of change. And our income is going to be significantly less once we move. I still haven’t gotten an answer from Medicaid, and if there’s any chance we have to pay the growing stack of medical bills ourselves, I don’t know where that money is going to come from.
So my mind has been buzzing with all of these things (not to mention a few I haven’t touched on here), and I haven’t taken the time to properly write about any of them. I’ve also been going to bed an hour earlier every night, so that cuts into writing time as well. I don’t want to be the pregnant-after-infertility blogger who disappears when things start going well, as Thumper reminds me every day is the case. I guess I’m just struggling with what to write about and having the energy to write the way I want to. But I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.