For some reason, I find that I am most emotional as my period is ending. It’s weird considering it’s called “premenstrual syndrome”, but it seems to be the way it works for me.
On Friday night, which happened to be the last day of my period, I went to a party for a friend and her husband. The party was multipurpose: both of their birthdays were within a week of each other, she had just gotten her PhD, and they are due to have their first child in 2 weeks. I have mentioned this friend before and I am very happy for her, but in the state of mind I was in, the fact that everyone was talking about pregnancy and children was too much for me. One group of people were talking about how a coworker had expected it to take 3-4 months to get pregnant, so when it happened right away it wasn’t according to plan/on schedule. I politely said, “It’s better than the reverse.” I wasn’t really feeling up to partying, so I made an appearance and stuck around for a bit, but then quickly made my exit.
When I got home, I poured myself some Yellowtail Shiraz (my fave red wine) and watched some video on demand (Think Like a Man and then Five Year Engagement). J was out for the evening . I was feeling sorry for myself and in the need of a good cry. The wine seemed to help that along and I was able to have a little pity party on my own. At one point my sadness gave way to anger. I started thinking about how it just isn’t right because I would be a good mother, a damn good mother. Fuck I hate infertility and fuck the depression that it often brings along with it.