December 10, 2011 - Starting Over

My love,

I’m sitting in bed, under warm flannel sheets and a mink blanket, drinking delicious hot chocolate your father made me. It’s Saturday night and I’m doing the thing I love most in the world – nothing. I get so much enjoyment out of doing absolutely nothing. Well, that’s unfair to say; it’s not like I’m doing nothing. I’m always working on a project, surfing the internet, or staring idly at the TV whilst drooling on myself. Sometimes I alternate all three throughout a block of time. So really, your mother is a multi-tasker. Please try to contain your sense of awe.

I suppose I should introduce myself, or rather the me I used to be. I hope you’re reading this on your 18^th birthday wondering what your boring, outdated and control freak mom was like at 27 before you came to be. Well, you’ll be disappointed to know that at this very moment, I’m boring, outdated and a control freak. Sorry. I wish I could tell you I used to be a Vegas showgirl, or a congresswoman or a nuclear physicist, but those would be lies, and I don’t want to start you out reminiscing about a lie.

Maybe I should start at the beginning. I was raised the only child in a two-parent household in Wyoming. I don’t have much to complain about; I had a mostly happy childhood, excelled academically and had about 6 best friends in a ten year period. That all seems like ancient history, though, because it was before I met your father. I’m not saying we’ve had an epic romance on par with Tristan and Isolde or Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy, (see how I didn’t say Romeo and Juliet? They’re slightly overrated as a couple. I mean, Jesus, they’re two teenagers who throw the ultimate temper tantrum because they can’t get married, and then they tragically and accidentally end their lives. But I digress.) but it’s special and unique to us.

Our relationship began in 2000 when I was a sophomore in high school and he was a senior. I’ll spare you the awkward and mushy details for now, and I’ll give you the highlights. We began dating in 2000, bought a house in 2003, I graduated college in 2005, we married in 2006 and decided to start trying to have you in 2010. Now here we are in 2011, and I can honestly say it’s been a wild decade!

December 4^th marked the one-year anniversary of trying to get pregnant. It’s been tough and we haven’t, as of yet, been successful, but we’re fighting. The same year we started trying for you, I was diagnosed with a condition called PCOS or polycystic ovary syndrome. It’s just a few fancy words meaning I don’t ovulate on my own. I’m in good company, though, because it’s estimated that 10-20% of American women have it, and it’s the leading cause of female fertility problems. So… phew! What a relief that I’m part of an in-crowd! I’m just kidding; it’s a bullshit thing to have and there’s no cure for it. I can mitigate it through diet and exercise (remember the hot chocolate mentioned above?) but that’s another story for another time.

I’m hoping that through this journal I can show you what your father and I went through to bring you into this world, and that no matter how angsty you get as a teenager, you’ll know you were always 100% on purpose.

I should head off to bed soon. All this nothing has made me pretty sleepy.

Love,

Me