Today is my two-year blogoversary.
I’ll be honest- I hadn’t been aware of the date. It was literally a couple minutes ago when I thought to myself, I think I started my blog sometime in March. I wonder when that was…so I checked my archives and decided that since today is THE day, I had to post (and the enormous to-do list that runs my life currently could wait another few minutes).
I’ve never been a particularly prolific blogger, and I tend to distance myself from this space intentionally when I’m not actively cycling, but I have found the blog to be a great comfort over the last couple of years. It’s been good to go back and read things from time to time; to check reactions to medication; to remember how I felt at points along the way. But by far the best bit has been ‘meeting’ my readers- you have all helped so very very much in this journey. Thanks for hanging in there with me, and for continuing to read even when I take my lengthy absences. I really hope 2010 will give me the chance to put some good news on here.
In the last couple of months I’ve had to realize something I would not have expected: it is a good thing that our two FETs failed. (I know- this sounds absurd.) The thing is, I’m now less than a month away from my compre.hensive ex.ams for my doctorate. These are two written exams based on two massive reading lists, plus an oral defence. They are a BIG.FREAKIN’.DEAL. If I fail- they throw me out. Game over.
Back when we were planning the FETs, we made sure to avoid having me give birth BEFORE the comps, but we didn’t have any concerns about me being pregnant in the lead up to them. I was super organized. I was on target. I’d be able to hand it all.
What I failed to predict (in absolutely spectacular fashion) was the extreme levels of anxiety I’d be feeling by the time I hit March. I knew that people tended to get anxious about comps and people tended to go a bit loopy, but I figured (in my smug naive way) that I’d be above all of that.
Boy, was I ever wrong.
I am in a better place now than I was a week or so ago where I had my first full-scale freak out about comps that led to me being unable to sleep for two nights while I clenched my jaw so hard during the day that my teeth started to ache. I found a way to work past that awful stretch, and I’m hoping I can keep the anxiety bottled up for a bit longer (although all bets are off in the final week). But I would be lying if I said I was calm at the moment. Although I am coping, and I can sleep and eat in my normal patterns, I’m also having to run 45+km every week to keep the anxiety down, and I’m very aware that my heart rate is higher than normal, and that there’s too much adrenaline in my system.
So, as much as it pains me to admit it, it is a good thing that I am not currently bombarding a hapless bub-to-be with my anxiety overdrive.
(That doesn’t mean that I’m ok with how this whole mess ended up- I’m just able now to see some sort of positive outcome. I’m still pissed off.)
So that is the main thing in my life right now. I haven’t been on here much, or reading elsewhere because I only spend 10 minutes or so a day online checking my email. I simply have no time. But at least the end is in sight (although that, in itself, is also terrifying).
AF is MIA. So whatever that blip was earlier in the year, I think it was a fluke. I’m back to my usual total absence of anything approaching a functioning reproductive system.
I wrote a cross email in response to this article. I shouldn’t rise to her bait: she usually writes articles that make me furious. They are always badly researched. Sometimes they don’t even have logical arguments. But this one really irked me, and I had a spare moment or two at lunch on the day, so I wrote to her shaming her for falling back on such a tired stereotype rather than trying to actually open a dialogue. I didn’t hear back.
I am currently obsessed (in a non-healthy way) with my body shape and my weight. I recognize that this is one of my outlets for anxiety- since I can’t control the fact that we’re going to be ttcing again in the spring, and Q. has made it clear I have to stop fussing over money, I seem to have targeted body image as my new source of constant stress. It’s a complete displacement exercise: I know that, but I can’t stop myself. Even though I have been running again consistently for over a month now, and I can see the benefits in my fitness, I still feel awful about myself.
Which is why it was so nice the other day when I ran past two British guys delivering furniture. I’m not sure if they knew I could hear them when one said something to the other, and the second replied, “Ooh yes, I see her. What a beauty. What a pace.”
Put a smile on my face for the whole rest of the day.