Not Funny

Last night I had a lovely evening out and about, which I have just begun doing about two months ago after a wicked depression. We went downtown to Irish Fest. It sounds corny and stupid, but it is actually a pretty good time. Plus, they have carnival food and I flock to carnival food like ducks to water.

For the most part I had a good time, especially looking at hubby beaming with joy because he now has a pregnant wife. But I have to admit it was a little awkward. I have done a lot of bed time in the last few weeks and the walking was killing me, but I didn't want to be a whiner. As everyone is offering congratulations, I don't want them to know that I am now the Queen of Paranoia. I made jokes about how Mike wants one boy but I told him it will be twin girls. Everyone made fun of me for keeping my pee sticks (which I will part with over my dead body). But I am still scared shitless, which I feel very ungrateful about.

The other thing is hubby's sister (sorry if you're reading this). I think I will feel awkward for a really long time, even though I've done a lot of work and it's time to move on. Part of it is sadness, because hearing the news of her pregnancy, combined with IUI #3 negative, was the catalyst that sent me into a depression I've never known before. I was in bed for days and the only reason I got out was to go to work. I didn't do anything for months. It was so heartbreaking and it hit home way more than any other pregnancy news had in the last few years. It was also the first time that I saw that hubby was visibly down about things. I felt, and still feel, guilty that we, as her family, were unable to be happy for her. Not only could we not be happy for her, but we flat out couldn't even be around her. I feel so bad that because of my issues hubby couldn't celebrate being an uncle for the first time because we were devastated that he isn't a dad. Her own family couldn't be there for her in a really exciting time. I wouldn't take it back because I needed to stay away from her, but I still feel some guilt everytime I see her. With all the lingering sadness, guilt, anger and jealousy, it is hard for things to be normal. Maybe someday.

Hubby's friends and family have been the bane of my existence the last few years. It's like they all decided to reproduce, at once, and it had to get rubbed in my face over and over. After we got our second beta, he told me about all kinds of people who are pregnant or even had a baby that I never knew about because he didn't want to tell me. That's just one reason out of a million why I love him so much.

So last night we get home to do our very last butt shot. It turned out to be a bleeder of epic proportions. Hubby stuck a piece of tp on it and then went to do homework. I fell asleep without thinking about the paper.

I, of course, could not resist a funnel cake. How could anyone? I only ate half, but the heartburn and nausea were absolutely ridiculous. I woke up at about 2:00 a.m. to pee and sit up. Then on the piece of tp lying on the toilet seat was tons of blood. My heart stopped. I was about to scream but I couldn't because I wasn't breathing. I wiped with a piece and there was nothing on it.

Then I remembered. The bloody butt shot. The piece of tp that was helping out with the bleeder had fallen off onto the toilet seat. I started to breathe again. I sat down because I was dizzy. To my surprise, I laughed hysterically. I have never had a loss, so I'm not sure why this anxiety has settled in. I couldn't help but laugh at myself for being such a psycho over some butt blood. Stupid bloody butt shot.

It's not funny though. I'm crazy. Tomorrow is beta #3 which I hope will allow for a little more piece of mind.