Oh, I am definitely full steam ahead on the Pity Boat today.
Someone made me tear-up on my way up to yoga. My feelings get hurt way too easily.
(I got on the elevator to go three floors up to the class. I take the elevator to the class for many different reasons (read: excuses) - I have bad knees and it's painful to climb stairs, especially in heels; I wait until the very last minute so I'm not gone from my desk too long and if I take the elevator it's usually faster; yoga is about relaxation for me and running up three flights of stairs and immediately trying to relax doesn't work for me. Anyway, there were 2 people already on the elevator and I joined them. One floor up the elevator stops for a delivery guy with a big cart and I get out because I was totally not paying attention. I was confused for a minute at the unfamiliar floor. I started to head back to the elevator only to hear the guy on the elevator make some snide comment about me exercising but being lazy enough to take the elevator up one floor. grrr. Yeah, I know this is stupid but it really hurt my feelings. That guy doesn't know me. I wanted to follow them up to their floor and tell him that I'm not lazy... just stupid with bad knees. heh. Probably a bad idea.)
My yoga instructor opened the class telling us how she got to watch her granddaughter take her first breath (be born) this past weekend.
...I will never get to experience that. With children or grandchildren.
My yoga class ended with everyone talking about what they named their kids and what their kids named their grandchildren.
...I will never get to name a baby.
Pregnancy is all around me lately.
This year I have found out that many coworkers are expecting, including one of the two other people in my office also in my specific dept. She sits down the hall from me and is definitely a belly-rubber. Not that I've seen her rub her belly yet but you know the type. She CANNOT stop talking about her pregnancy. I know all about how she really wanted a boy and that how women in her family don't show until they're at least 6 months and oh so much more. Now I know that she just found out it's a boy (and she hasn't even specifically told me). Another coworker (also an acquaintance outside of work) came into my office last fall and told me he and his new wife were thinking about having a baby and when are R and I going to have kids? Ugh. The dreaded question. I found out about a month ago that they are expecting and that she was about 3 months. Didn't take effin long, huh?
There are a few blogs I keep up with because they were among the very first blogs I read. They are not IF blogs and I recently learned that three of them are pregnant with their second babies. They were just pregnant with their first when I started reading them about 2 years ago. Serves me right for continuing to read I suppose.
I can't do anything online or watch anything on TV without being reminded that parenthood is the norm. It's sickeningly normal! It just happens without a second thought for so many people. Most women my age and older are moms. I can't help but think how it will feel when I'm 50 and still don't have any kids. Hopefully I'll have mourned and accepted it by then.
When I feel like this it overwhelms me that I don't have a final resolution. I feel like I'm mourning my never-to-be children over and over again. Depressed, I say goodbye to motherhood, only to have a little hope sneak back in the next day/week/month, and then I have to say goodbye again. ("pain on pain on play repeating")
I almost wish for something to happen that will force me to mourn once and for all and then move on with my life.
Well, I will get to mourn once and for all. I suspect that will happen when I go through menopause. But that seems like way too long to go on like this.