The last time

One of C-man's classmates is going to have a sibling soon. The school parents very thoughtfully organized 3 months of twice-weekly meals, of which we have an assigned date. (Beerman's response to this was, "Doesn't she have a husband?" Seriously - God bless that man.) They finally got all the dates organized and emailed the mother to let her know. The mother responded with one sentence of sincere thanks followed by a whole paragraph of complaints about her pregnancy. And I almost lost it.

I've never had much respect for mothers who complain about their pregnancies during their pregnancies. I feel that those who complain about their impending births are about as disrespectful and ungrateful as a person could ever be, both to that child and the miracle that has happened in their family's lives. Planned or not, suck it up, because this is a child. I feel even stronger about this if it's not the mother's first child. Because let's face it, you knew exactly what you were getting in to, and exactly how you got there in the first place.

But now add in the fact that I just tallied up the past year's expenses in invasive procedures and futile fertility medicine attempts that we can't even deduct on our taxes ($24k and change in case anyone is counting), receiving an email of someone's complaints because she's having a baby doesn't really sit so well with me. I was so angry I almost emailed back and canceled out of our assigned date.

Thankfully, before I sent the horrible email to the woman who is actually quite a lovely person, I realized that this bout of irrational rage is courtesy of this week's infusion. In addition to the mouth sores, inability to sleep, not being able to wander very far from the bathroom for the past 3 days, and an overall complete lack of energy. A true miracle, just like I was promised.

So much to C-man's chagrin (the poor child has to be alone with me all weekend), I made him get up so we could take Harry to the park. The walk helped, but definitely wasn't enough. All I want to do is lie in bed and sob.

This is not okay. I will never, ever get another infusion of this garbage again.


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On a much, much, much happier note, Happy 17th Anniversary! And might I add that it's a heck of a lot warmer today than it was 17 years ago.