So, as promised, I was going to post right after retrieval. We all accept the fact THAT didn't happen. My apologies. I became wrapped up into life as I came out of the cloud of needle pricks and mid-afternoon phonecalls with script changes and anticipations of travel dates to Rockville.
All in all, the egg donation process was a great thing. What?! you say? (Read the previous posts to catch up). I feel like I am at a point now where I can realistically look back into weight loss (just ten pounds, c'mon!- not that much to ask!) and not feel like I have something fighting against me besides the obvious- me.
Despite January being calm at work-besides a new friend and co-worker (same person, don't be confused) joining the normal chaos, me giving eggs to a stranger and my kids being only on antibiotics once- February is proving itself to be a bear of sorts. To begin with, it's the shortest month we've got to deal with- there is some fashion of false promises as far as weather goes. 50 one day- kids off for two days the next due to 1/10" of ice accumulation on one roadway in one county. At work, there is a culmination of emotions in the office where we're starting to feel the annual pull- and the request to really push hard the last 90 days of our fiscal year to get our shit together and bring in the dollars; after we've spent the last nine months enduring the work to accomplish the very same thing.
To add to this, my sister has a birthday. Nothing traumatic there, but since she's 13 years younger than I and I have a clear memory of her birth, it makes me feel incredibly older than I should. And not that that's enough- I have a birthday this month. February 29th. Yes, Leap Year. The answer is no (not this year), yes (I celebrate in February when I can), every presidential election (when I have a birthday and finally 7 3/4 (the age I turn in 2011).
I have had many of my friends, partners in my Leadership Anne Arundel class, donors, etc. asking me how I balance it all. I really think that day time happiness plays a huge role in my life. As I reflected with one of my donors recently when asked about me working outside the home, away from my kids, I said that knowing that I have to work and being miserable in my job would make me a miserable person. But, having the opportunity to do what I love doing (making people happy) makes knowing that I have to work much more tolerable. And isn't that the way everyone is? Do I miss my kids? Of course I do. But, do I love what I do outside the house? Damn straight. Will my kids respect that decision and have more respect for me when it's time for them to, will they? I can only hope.
