I'm not sure what's gotten into me lately, but I've been doing things that would have been way outside my comfort zone even six months ago. Holiday parties attended by preggos. Family gatherings full of babies. Nosing around online for Christmas gifts for our new niece. Looking at maternity clothing, and hoping. All of these, even, with very few tears.
And it scares the ever loving shit out of me.
The holidays are always so fraught with delicate situations, conversations, and emotions, and I usually find no joy whatsoever in all of the hooplah. Have you seen that Kay Jewellers commercial? You know, the one with the couple with the new baby, talking about how it would be their first Christmas as a family? Uggh. That message, that hidden message that if you are, in fact, not parents, you do not qualify as a family - it's everywhere. It sickens me that people so whole heartedly buy into it. It sickens me that I buy into it.
And while all of the feelings of exclusion and loss and grief and uncertainty and anger are still there, they do not bubble to the surface nearly as often. They no longer cripple me. I am sort of puzzled by this, but thankful just the same. Could it be the acupuncture? The exercise? Whatever. It's working.
I'm waiting, though, for the inevitable tide. The straw, if you will, to break my camel of a back. I know it will happen - all of these emotions will churn to the surface, and soon, I will lose my shit.
I just hope that when it happens, I can get my shit back again, and quickly.