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A Change in the Weather

7 Nov

I have been unemployed now for over a month. Although it ended rather abruptly, it was time. I was unhappy, not with doing my job, but with the pests that kept me from it. I am trying to forget about it and move on but every once in a while instead of being thankful and listening to all my friends’ cliched wisdom, I just want to be mad. Just plain mad. But what good does that ever do? And very quickly stemming from wanting to be mad, I decide it’s better to be drunk, which usually isn’t an issue but, well, read on…

We are and have been trying for a baby and although things aren’t going completely according to plan, or rather I should say, according to the timeline we had in mind, we will for sure not be giving up any time soon. But I will say the longer it takes, the more stressful purposeful love making becomes. It’s bad enough I’m hispanic but I am also probably the only grandchild without a kid in, hmmmmm, well over 30 of us. Even my lesbian cousin has two of her own.
There are days I feel like Charlotte in Sex in the City, when she says something about spending all that time in her twenties trying not to get pregnant as she now has trouble conceiving. I mean, I’ve always felt that something was wrong with me but now I am truly fretting that there very well may be. But the worst feeling is wondering, what if it’s not me? And although there are options to help conceive, I have already told B that I am not interested in putting either of us through fertility procedures or surrogates but then when I’m studying him in the morning still in awe that he is mine and I brush his coarse red beard and peck his freckled shoulders, kiss his long lashes and…*sigh* If I could create a life from pure lust and want we would not be struggling. We will not rule out adoption because, well, B was adopted and so was his father. B always asks about breastfeeding though. Do people still have wet nurses? Or maybe my count has just been off. But again, I’m hispanic, C’mon!

So no job and mucho sexing to make a zygote that blooms, I don’t quite count the first one as a negative just yet even though it complicates our lifestyle and of course hurts my pride a little. The second is definitely a pro, it is the waiting that’s a drag. But other than that, life with B is amazing as always. He keeps me smiling and I try to keep him interested, fed, and now that I can’t use work as an excuse, in a clean house.