It Comes and Goes

Feeling a little down tonight.

I actually had a pretty good weekend. Given that yet another cycle has come to an end (number 10) and my appointment isn't going to be for a week and a half, I didn't really dwell much on not being pregnant. J and I spent a quiet Saturday at home reading (me) and playing on the computer (him), then used up most of today cleaning and going to the grocery store.

After dinner I decided to watch "Warm Springs", a movie about Franklin Roosevelt's struggle with polio and the rehabilitation clinic he started in Georgia before becoming President. I'd rented it from Netflix a couple weeks ago, but hadn't made time for it until tonight.

About halfway through the movie, there's a scene where all the patients and their families, including Franklin and Eleanor, are in the dining room celebrating. Kathy Bates, who plays a physical therapist, asks everyone for their attention, then urges a young patient to stand up. The girl walks--for the first time--as everyone watches in amazement. The camera focuses on on Roosevelt, as he sees this little girl doing the only thing he himself wants to do. Walk.

It's probably a testimony to Kenneth Branaugh's exceptional ability as an actor that I saw on his face the same confusing mixture of emotions I've been feeling lately. Happy for the little girl who won't spend her life confined to a wheelchair, but at the same time more jealous of her than he can say.

I hate that I feel this way. Hate that I can't walk down the street without seeing someone who's pregnant or who has a young child without feeling that horrible jealousy. I hate that I can't even watch TV or read a book without coming across a character who's pregnant or has young children. Last week J and I watched an episode of his favorite show, "House" where the patient didn't want any more children so she was taking birth control pills on the side while also undergoing fertility treatments to make her husband think that she still wanted to have a baby. I hated that woman so much. I kept watching because I wanted to spend time with J, but if I had been alone I would have turned off the TV after the first five minutes.

Most days I'm fine, some days I'm not. At this point the good days far outnumber the bad. December was the first time I cried, January was predictably awful, and thus far February has had its moments. Mostly, though I'm absolutely fine and don't obsess about it. It's days like today, however, when this sad/jealous/angry feeling comes over me at a completely unexpected moment that I feel it most acutely. Writing about how I'm feeling helps, and so does e-mailing with the group of people I've come to trust and respect over the last few months.

For now, there's nothing to do except wait and focus on all the other good things I have in my life. I have a wonderful husband, a supportive family, great friends, two lovable cats, a roof over my head, a good job, and basically everything--save one--that I ever wanted. For now, I have to be happy with that.