I am feeling a bit of a tantrum coming on. I am tired and frankly I am cranky.
I am tired of always having to create lemonade from the lemons my life keeps growing. Why can’t my life grow juicy, sexy pomegranates? Why am I always looking for the happy moments in all the sadness? Why am I always looking for the zen to get through this or that new challenge? It’s not that I would rather stop trying to be happy: it’s just that I wish I could get to be one of the easily happy people. I want to be one of the people who get what they want. Why couldn’t something have just worked? Why. is. my reproductive system. all. screwed. up?? Why have I not only been lapped again but now I also need to find a new freaking category for myself?
At times I can see the beauty in Joey being the one to carry our baby, but at times I am incredibly resentful that it is unlikely that I will get to know the joy of growing a baby inside my body. I keep sitting down to write a calm “all is well” post and this tantrum is what keeps bubbling up instead.
Perhaps tomorrow I will get to write the acceptance post.