Waiting Waiting Waiting

It’s waiting season. I’m waiting for results from Mayo to find out if our baby was chromosomally normal. I’m waiting for my beta to finally hit 0. I’m waiting for my cycle to return to normal so we can move forward.

I do not do well when I don’t have specific goals and tasks with deadlines. Open ended timeframes make me lazy. For example, there are so many projects I really should get done around the house. But not one of them has a specific deadline so therefore I’ve had a difficult time getting myself motivated to do them. I’m usually not this complacent about getting things done. I think a large part is that I’m still grieving. Grieving and waiting on results.

The tears still come about once a day.  Sometimes I may cry for several minutes and other times it may be as mild as watery eyes. I have some incredible friends that recognize the importance of checking in with me even though it’s been a few weeks since we lost our baby. All it takes is a simple text message letting me know they’re thinking of me.

I’m still waiting for my mother to acknowledge my loss. We’ve never gotten along due to her horrible treatment of me since forever. Some may wonder why I even still communicate with her. But cutting off communication with her would likely mean losing touch with the rest of my family and I’m not willing to do that yet. I definitely set boundaries with her. Because of the issues I have with my mother I didn’t tell her about our miscarriage until two days after it happened. She always adds to the stress in my life and I just couldn’t deal with her on top of emergency surgery. (It should be noted that both of my siblings completely agreed and supported my decision on this). She’s pissed I didn’t tell her sooner. And that’s probably why I haven’t heard anything from her. No text, no email, no phone call, no card, nothing. She was even in town a couple of weeks ago and stopped at my house to pick up something and she hardly said a word to me. The way she works is that this is my entire fault because I didn’t tell her. She obviously has mental health issues. The most frustrating part is that she has no self-awareness when she hurts other people. Instead it’s their fault or they’re being too sensitive and blowing things out of proportion. If I decided to even try to discuss this with her my head would probably explode with the asinine reasoning she would come up with. It’s a no-win situation for me. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. You can’t reason with her like a normal person. She doesn’t get it and is also good at making completely ridiculous assumptions. You would think after a lifetime of her treating me this way I wouldn’t care so much. I guess I just keep giving her the benefit of doubt. Because what mother wouldn’t be supportive after hearing her daughter went through something so horrific? Mine, that’s who! After discussing things with my husband I will be keeping an even greater distance between me and my mother. And I will not say one word to her about any future infertility treatments. If she doesn’t want to even try to be a good person, then she doesn’t deserve to be a part of my life.

I’m lucky that despite having a crappy mother I have a really great group of close knit friends that I can rely on whenever I need to. They’re there for me and they understand what I’m going through. All that matters is I have people that love and care about me. Those are the friendships and connections I need to put my energy into.