With a capital B

I'm bored.

I haven't been bored since I was a teenager. Yet, here I am on a Saturday night, Bored.

The Husband is off to some football betting thing. I'm sitting here with nothing to do. I have the rental car still, I could motor around. But it's pissing rain and I don't feel like leaving the house.

I could clean the house, but that's even more boring that I'm feeling right now.

We made it through car-shopping today without a fight. That's a good sign. Didn't find anything. Not liking what's out there, really. Off we go again tomorrow.

I COULD surf the net and research cars, but it's very daunting since I've never done it before. And frustrating....for the same reason.

Perhaps it's jammy time and I'll watch Top Chef.

Urs.

Easy Ridin'

The Husband and myself are going car shopping thisafternoon.

Hope it goes smoothly.

Because nothing ever does with us.

Every time we are making a "large ticket item" purchase, we fight like cats and dogs.

The wedding? $30,000.00. We fought from beginning to end (not to mention that it wasn't the wedding I wanted. I really didn't like it much. Except for the fact that I married the love of my life. That part, I liked.)

The house? $630,000.00. Horrendous experience. Horrendous. But we loved the house. I just didn't like the fact that he got $25,000.00 from his parents without discussing it with me. Especially seeing as I do NOT have a good relationship with them. Actually I have NO relationship with them. (On the flip side, you could say we have a fabulous relationship seeing as they don't speak English.)

And now a car. We're probably looking in the $40,000.00 range. And the car is for me, not him. I'm already envisioning a nightmare. We just don't get along when we're faced with major decisions. I feel like he thinks it's "his way or the highway", because he's better at finances than I am. It's just not my thing. He also comes across that he gets more say because he makes more money than I do. The whole "bring home the bacon" thing.

He only makes $8,500.00 more than me. Really, that's not that much.

Here we go.

I shall report back.

Urs.

I'm just sayin'.

So, you tell me that you have something very important to do for the Office of the President, therefore you cannot get to my items until tomorrow.

And yet you sit in your pal's office for 45 minutes talking about the traffic on the way in thismorning.

Uh, yeah.

I'm just sayin'.

Urs.

As I get older, I feel more inferior.

My self-esteem plummets.

I feel as though I'm stupid. Or at least not as smart as the person next to me... at most times.

I feel as though my value as a human being declines.

As though if I wasn't here, nobody would miss me. Again, as though I have no value.

I'm not important in the big picture. I have yet to find my reason for being. I'm not a spectacular person. I believe I USED to be. But no more.

I find myself boring. Sometimes even, a waste of skin. A waste of breath. A waste of attention.

You'd think I'd have learned something potent, with the two failed pregnancies and, most recently, the major car accident.

But no, I haven't seen the reason for it all.

Yet.

Perhaps I will. Perhaps the lesson I was to learn will unveil itself.

Or not.

I sometimes feel as though I'm a minor hiccup in The Husband's life. Or a major hiccup, depending on the day.

For the most part, I feel as though I fucked up his life.

By just being.

I feel as though he really wanted to get married. And I just happened to be the gal that was in his life at the time. I don't necessarily believe that I'm the person he really wanted to marry. Not that there was anyone else, but I was the one that was there. I know that he wouldn't have chosen me in a million years. He would never had hunted me down and declared his undying love and begged me to marry him. He would have chosen someone more safe. Someone more like him.

Someone chinese.

But he got me. HE asked me. And I said yes.

Because I'm head over heels in love with him.

He's not the one I would have ever pictured myself with either. First of all, I never thought I'd GET married. I didn't want to get married.

And then he came into my life.

And I fell in love.

Head over heels.

In love with this man.

And yet I feel so small in our marriage. In our relationship. As a wife. As a twice-failed mother-to-be.

As a person.

As a human being.

I peed on the stick last night. Wondering.

Wondering if we happened to get pregnant between my fucked up periods since the procedure.

It was negative.

And I'm glad.

I'm getting older. I'm getting to the point where it may become difficult to get pregnant. We're aging. We want a baby, almost desperately.

Almost.

Yet I'm grateful that it came back negative.

I realize that we have alot of work to do, for US, before we can bring a child, or two, into this relationship. Into our marriage. Into our life.

I've got to learn that I do have value.

That I'm not stupid.

Get my self-esteem back (I used to be Fabulous).

I've got to stop feeling so damned inferior.

To him.

Urs.

We're off to gather paint samples.

The In-Laws are telling me I have to paint over a red wall I have in my basement. They tell me that's why I've had such a bad year. Two miscarriages and a car accident on Thursday.

Jesus Christ.

But, I'm tired of the arguements. I'm tired of them harping on me. I'm painting the fucking wall. I told my sister-in-law (the oldest in the family) that I think she's crazy and I laughed my head off, but that I'd make her a deal: I'd paint over the red in the basement, but I'm painting a wall upstairs red.

I was greeted with silence.

She was telling me that a red wall in the basement is like walking down to Hell. When in reality, walking into The Husband's Mother's house is like walking into hell. However, I digress....

Anyhoo, I probably won't paint a wall upstairs, but this had better be the end of it.

I'm not sure if I'm going to say anything to them or not, but it actually all started with The Husband's Mother taking a piece of my clothing and burning incense over it and putting prayers into it. The first time she did this I got strepp throat. The second time, I had my first miscarriage. Then my second. And now the car accident.

Not so sure it's the colour of my wall that's causing this. Could be the bad mojo from The Husband's Mother (I refuse to call her my mother-in-law).

I've got to buck up and be strong around this nasty woman so her bad mojo doesn't permiate my home anymore.

Urs.

I pick and choose my facebook friends by their status.

If it's lame, I remove them from my friends list. If their status annoys me, I immediately delete them completely.

I'm a facebook snob.

Urs.

Years ago, when I was in the telecom industry, we had a team-building afternoon.

First off, we had a fella come in and talk to us about stress. He was talking about mice. He was asking us which mouse would be under more stress; the mouse that had advanced notice that it would be shocked (yeah I know, nice hey?), or the mouse that had no warning whatsoever.

My answer?

"Who cares, they're mice."

Fast forward eleven years.

I'm on my patio, having a glass of wine. Flip flops on. Sitting in a plastic patio chair.

Each time I get up to go in the house, I grab the doorknob, and get shocked. A little shock hits me. It's annoying as hell. And it hurts.

So now, every time I get up to go indoors, I'm STRESSED to the max, knowing that I'm going to get shocked.

Just now, I stood there for a minute and a half, afraid to touch the doorknob. Looking like a complete spaz. Afraid to enter my own house. Full well knowing that the pain will only last a millisecond. Yet completely frozen, afraid to touch the doorknob.

I shall begin my own experiment.

First thing? No flip flops.

I shall report back.

Urs.

Is it irresponsible to throw caution to the wind?

The Husband and I have decided to let things happen as they may. The bigges thing I've learned since having two failed pregnancies (especially the last one, as it was a baby. It was a little person. Not a mass of cells. A baby.), is that there is nothing in this world you can control, except your own actions.

Everything is much bigger than you. No matter how hard you try, no matter that you do everything right, things are out of your control.

The wonder of life. Absolutly out of your control.

So, we can wait until the test results from the baby come back. We can wait until our bloodtest results come back. We can live in fear that there is something horribly wrong with us. With me.

Or we can totally believe in the wonder of life. We can totally believe in nature. We can ebb and we can flow.

Or we can live in fear.

I'm not one to live in fear.

So we are letting things happen as they may. Naturally. We are not trying out of desperation. We are not trying by watching the calendar, watching my cycle, waiting and watching for the perfect fertility days. We are just being.

My last cycle was wonky becuase, I suppose, of the D&C. It was two days of heavy heavy flow, then nothing for four days, then a bit of spotting. I'm a pretty regular girl. So it was way off.

Yet we had unprotected sex. And it turned out to be during the "perfect fertility days". Was that irresponsible? What if the test results come back that we can never carry a normal, healthy baby? What if there is something so fucked up that we will always miscarry? What if. What if, what if? Was it being irresponsible that we may very well have gotten pregnant, god, I could be pregnant now for crying out loud, and the little one will be horribly deformed and abnormal, becuase we didn't wait for the test results that would have told us exactly this?

I don't want to put that out there, however the fear creeps in. The fear that, what if we ARE pregnant already and it will not be "normal" and I've possibly just started the process of bringing a being into this world that doesn't stand a chance, chromosomally?

What if?

Or what if it is what it is. What if nature is as it is. What if there is absolutely nothing I could ever do to ensure our baby will be born normal, healthy, happy.

So what if?

What if we get pregnant, or we ARE pregnant, and everything is as it should be and we have a normal, healthy, happy baby. See? What if?

We ebb and we flow.

We've decided to Just Be. To trust. To trust that the plans for us are greater than we are.

And that it will be as it will be.

Urs.