Last night, I went to the bookstore to kill some time and spend some money. As always, I ended up in the baby section.  I was actually looking for a book for my niece, no really! And I couldn’t find it.  I drifted around the corner and down to the end section, where they have the fertility and adoption and ART books.  I scooched down to look closer, when I was literally knocked over from behind.  I steadied myself by putting my hands on the floor, and I turned around to see who had whacked into me with such force.  A flash of brown flew by, stopped, and turned around.  A toddler, probably not even two, was grinning at me, drooling, looking straight into my eyes.

His father was right behind him, "Sorry! I’m sorry!" and I just waved my hand, "No worries, ‘sokay."  I almost burst into tears on the spot.  I mean, getting physically pushed away from the paranoia section, by a BABY, at almost 9 pm?

That is TOTALLY a sign.

Other than that, my ham sandwich tasted icky two nights ago, but no one else complained.  It tasted, dare I say it?

Metallic. 

Let the obsession begin. Or, try to not obsess. Whatever.

Just a link; Dave read the first one of these roundtables and really liked it, and I see that there’s a second one now.  "New Fathers: Round II"

Non-physiological sign:

Yesterday was the first day that we dared have a post-GOF conversation regarding both names and physical features we hope the As Yet Unconceived Hypothetical Kid should have.

Dave: What about ‘Anders’ for a boy?
Gretchen: It’s not…. BAD….
Dave: But not ANDY, it would have to stay Anders.
Gretchen: Yeah, not Andy, because then that would make Andy [my oldest friend] "Big Andy." And he wouldn’t like that, because it would make him sound fat.
Dave: Or, "old Andy."
Gretchen: Or, "Big, Old, Gay Andy." Yeah, no Andy.

Also, we’ve determined that AYUHK should have Dave’s 20/20 vision, metabolism, and lack of allergies, and my smartness and sense of hearing.  Of course, any AYUHK will be 100 percent geek.  That’s just a given.

And no, no consensus on names yet.  He likes girl names that begin with or end with "A," and I think those are too cutesy.  I like strong girl names that end in a consonant, but I’ll compromise with a nickname that ends in A. Boy names, gah, he would prefer "anything with an umlaut," thanks to years of listening to Scandinavian metal and reading the liner notes, and the German surname that our kids will have.  Any name that I like seems to be rising on the popularity curve, and that sort of bugs me, or, it doesn’t sound good with the surname.

Oh well. Who knows when we’ll even need this information, anyway.

I’ve been dreaming for months that I wake up, stumble to the bathroom, pee delicately (ha!) on a magic wand, and have a Lifetime Movie moment where I see 2 pink lines. (I just typoed that as "pink pines" which would be really funny, to throw back the curtains and find that 2 of our dozen or so pine trees have gone pink. Heh.)

This month, though, in the first month of "it ain’t nevah gonna happen!" paranoia, I’ve been dreaming about getting my period.  I’ve had that dream several times, that I wake up to the familiar cramping and totter off to deal with the thing I’ve dealt with every month for the last 16 years.

Last night, the dream was that I was pregnant, or I had told people I was or something, and I was going into labor.  This set off a chain reaction of informing people: my class was writing "Go, Mrs S!" on the whiteboard, cousins form far away were renting minivans to get here, my parents were trying to get to town, it was a big deal.  I went to the hospital to be ‘checked’ and when i got there, I realized "Whoops! Just starting my period, I’m not pregnant after all!" and I thought "Hrm, why did I think I was? Did someone tell me I was?"  I was embarrassed, because, DUH, I should know the difference between 10 months of pregnancy and a bad menstrual cramp, and people were pissed off that I had dragged them away from what they were doing for my "false alarm."

I woke up, very confused, and realized that no, I had not started my period (but, like the pink lines dreams of months previous, it was SO real) and yes, it was almost 9 am.  And that is how I started my day: relieved to know I wasn’t a dumbass that had claimed labor pains without every actually being PREGNANT and not bleeding.

Headache. Did I have as much headacheyness every other month? I don’t usually get them. But I’ve had one every day at some point, and is it a sign?

Also, tired. But I didn’t fall asleep today, because it was the Oprah’s Favorite Things AND all for teachers, and I am a sucker for that stuff.  (And anyone who saw the SNL spoof last season could really appreciate this one, it was a parody of itself.)  I could have, but I had a cup of tea instead.  And I also had a small peppermint mocha latte because they are limited edition and sounded yummy, and I conned Andy into going out with me to get one. And I was right.

So, normal tea intake is a cuppa before school, and another at 10 am.  Today, Ihad those 2, as well as a diet pepsi at lunch and through the afternoon, and the Nutcracker Sweet this afternoon, and the latte. So, more than twice my usual.

I also had supper, and was still hungry — heartburny hungry, if that makes sense — so I had an almond-butter sandwich.  And a drinking yogurt, and my vitamins. And now it’s 10:28 and I should go to bed.

I hope I last til Thursday.

I know I get pretty, uhh, obsessive during my 2WW, and those of that endure my prattling on are great. However, even I can recognize that this crosses the line.

(I lurk at that board to see what the newest due dates are for a given month, and if my hypothetical EDD pops up, I get all excited to test.  I don’t post, they are a little too intense there.)

1)  I realize that all the people I am so frustrated with (esp. ILs) may very well be looking at me and seething at what I have: a degree, a house, a husband, a professional career. 

2)  I do not react this way with other babies. Most of me wishes I could come clean on what it is I want so badly, but I know that it would just mean more. . . .interference in the process.

3)  I realize that I probably have more in common with these people than I allow myself to know. However, at this time, I am pretty much seeing everything there in a Pregnant/Not Pregnant filter.  If I was pregnant, it would give me something to talk about, at least, since it is a favorite hobby of my ILs.

4)  The GNC conversation was very unsettling, and to go straight from that encounter to the House O’ Fertile Folk only exacerbated the angst I was already feeling.

5) Also, found out that two more of Dave’s coworkers are up the spout.  One is (of COURSE) a young (unmarried) PA and the other is a young, married couple that is actually from my hometown.  So I heard about them from both my mom and Dave.

6) As I related the story and angst I’m feeling to Amy on the telephone, CSI came on featuring an empty crib and kidnapped baby plot. MMmm.. More baby.

7)  The Angie in the previous entry is not to be confused with the Angie I work with. Two tooootlalllly different Angies.

8)  Amy and I tried to laugh off the stress I’m feeling, looking to the end of the week and saying maybe this whole day is a moot point and I’m pregnant RIGHT NOW. Hah.

9) Just before I hung up with her, my Amazon shipping confirmation came through on my gmail.

10)  In a fit of positive energy, I ordered one book on grandparenting, and two on pregnancy. You know, just in case I find out before we go to the mountain for dinner, I can give my parents a Holiday Surprise. Heh. Seriously, I’m going fucking nuts.

I have other stories, like all about the middle school dance I ran last night, and how it made me realize that my kids really freakin’ LIKE me, or spending the afternoon at the SIL’s house for a niece birthday party, and the akwardness of it all, or about the 403(b) guy that came to my room and showed me the basics of his laptop (because he figured the lil lady wouldn’t know such technical terms as "thingie that lets you know something is happening ‘behind the scenes’) and also said "Single, I assume?" when we got to marital status, but instead I will tell you about my day spent running the fertility gauntlet.  I’ve no idea if it’s a sign or not, but it’s a story, anyway. So.

I had to go to the mall to get a present for my niece. This is Good Niece, who is going to college (gasp!) and doesn’t have a baby and is nice and kind and sweet and LOOOVEES us and thinks I’m a "cool aunt."  Because my inlaws idea of giving a gift is to give someone a completely irrationally purchased giftcard (ex: Bath and Body Works for the known eczema sufferer, WalMart for the avowed WalMart hater/Target lover, Bugaboo Creek Steakhouse for the couple that doesn’t eat red meat) I protest silently by purchasing actual gifts. I know. It’s crazy!  I actually like to THINK about what I’m buying and whether or not it relates to the receiver in any way at all.  Since I was already committed to going to the mall, I also decided to use my Lane Bryant coupons (seriously, their CoolMax bras are my absolute favorite) and pick up some vitamins.  I parked and headed to LB first.

My coupon was $25 off a purchse of $75, so I tried to get as close to $75 as possible.  I found a shirt that sounds much worse that it is —  black crewneck with rhinestone trim — and I grabbed one of their long-sleeved tees that are the staple of my wardrobe.  I also spent some time looking for pants: I could’ve bought one pair that fit just perfectly, or a pair that was a little loose.  I decided to buy up, because what if I am?  And as i was trying them on, I heard the voice of a girl I’d worked with outside of the changing room.

I worked with her at Borders, years ago, when she was TTC.  She’s a DES daughter, which she told me about way back when but only recently made sense to me.  Even though I was fully dressed, I waited in the change room to listen to her.  From the conversation, I gathered that she was in the adoption process and also taking fertility drugs. She had a little girl of about 5 with her, but I couldn’t figure out if that’s who she was adopting.  I remember hearing about her fertility issues years ago, though, at least seven years ago she was talking about it as we worked in the cafe.  And still, no baby. (The kid with her is a recent addition, I last saw this woman in the spring and knew there were no changes.)

I paid for my things (and got a $25 off $50 purchase coupon; LB knows how to get and keep customers) and headed off to GNC, where I needed more vitamins.  I went in, grabbed the pink and purple bottle of prenatals and put it on the counter.

"These for you?" the clerk asked.

"Uhh, yeah."

"Sooo, are you . . . ."

"Oh, no. Not yet. Well, I don’t know, I’m just . . ."

"Being prepared?"

"Yeah. Something like that."

"Well, good luck to you!"

When I left, I wanted to cry. Something about that — about buying my second bottle of prenatals and still not being pregnant.  Having someone (other than me, heh) for a minute think that I must be, it was just odd and weird and sad.  I went to B Dalton and picked out the gift: a leather bound, refillable, traveler’s journal and a neato red pen. (Screw gift cards!)

When I got to their house for the party, I arrived at the same time as Other Niece and her baby, Damian, and her mom and stepdad. We all walked in together, and then Nephew, his pregnant girlfriend Angie and her daughter showed up. It was all baby baby baby, since Angie is 36 weeks and Damian is almost 6 months.

I stayed away, so frustrated that they seemingly have no problem getting knocked up, and here I am in my 5th cycle, there’s jodi in her at least 7th year, Persephone, 2 years, EmmaNadine and that whole array of tragedy, but, the baby kept staring at me.  It was unnerving.  I actually left the room to get away from it.

Here’s the thing. I was afraid to hold him.  I’ve held plenty of babies before, but I was afraid to show emotion of any kind by holding him. It wasn’t like holding my friend’s kids, it was different.  I felt on display, almost, and if I held him, maybe they’d see through me and see that I wanted one so much it hurt, and that it pissed me off that it seems everyone who does it ‘wrong’ gets one, and those of us that try to do it right, aren’t getting them.

Here I was, in this room of people and babies that were born to unwed mothers, or fed with foodstamps, or calling someone ‘Daddy’ that wasn’t a biodad because biodad had disappeared. Seriously, everyone.  Hell, even Good Niece is the reason her parents got married; they had been together for years, but only eloped after  finding out Good Niece was on the way.  Same thing with nephew, Other Niece’s parents were never married.  She’s not married, and has a kid, her brother and Angie aren’t married and expecting one next month.  Her daughter calls him "daddy," because the original just didn’t care enough to stick around.  My own husband was in a similar situation as a kid, only no one ever showed up to fill in.

I know plenty of people in nontraditional situations.  I know and love people who have kids that aren’t married, and it’s not just the married part, it’s the whole thing.  Other Niece and Angie are supported by the state, which is part of the reason that Nephew hasn’t married her: then they’d lose their state housing that she gets and have to live off his (very good, probably better than mine) income as a city truck driver/PW employee.  I’m the only one with a four year degree in the room, you know?  And no baby.

Anyway.  Good Niece loved her gift, and I found out that she isn’t going to Italy after all.  (She smashed up her car last month, and couldn’t afford Italy AND the work needed for her car and new insurance premiums)  She likes to write, anyway, and she loved it and honestly? I was glad she had something to unwrap.  Ours was the only GIft, but she did receive some Powerball tickets, and Giftcards to Borders, Bath and Body works, and the mall-in-general.

So, yeah. I have a week to go, and I don’t know how to interpret any of these ‘signs,’ but it was weird and emotional and I wish I could get a baby as easy as everyone else in Dave’s family has.  Maybe college transcripts have some sort of ink that causes a fertility slowdown? Maybe.

And, into the 2WW with a bang.

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Started in the night. Went back to bed and actually shed a few tears.