The spiritless day of the month where I am biologically certain that I am not pregnant is known as Sad Day! around here. Officially it begins with a solid embrace from Christopher and his habitual trip to Albertsons for products, and believe me he knows which ones I like best. How many husbands will do that for their spouse? I just read a talk by President Monson where he tells a story about how a couple of years ago he went shopping for the first time and didn't know how to use a shopping cart! Please bless that Christopher is never called to be an apostle. Then again, Page did run into Elder Eyring at Smiths buying butter (see: Sweet Cheeks/October). Then again, buying butter doesn't often require a cart. Christopher comes home usually with a bag full of products and chocolate, both handy, both very appreciated.
Festivities of Sad Day! usually include a little bit of feeling sorry for myself, which isn't nearly as overwhelming as it was a couple of years ago. These months, the feeling sorry part is just a mere formality, a moment's observance, really. It's like the part in the 4th of July parade when the flag passes. Everything is quiet and you are standing up with your hand on your heart. For a moment you are thinking that you are proud to be an American where at least you know you are free. Then they shoot the cannon and you go back to throwing poppers at the beauty queens and talking about the illegal fireworks you bought in Wyoming the night before. Thus Sad Day! rolls on.
This is a momentous day where any and all of my wishes are Christopher's command. I did not train him to be like this. Ok, maybe I did. Also his mother is an angel and I thank the heavens that Christopher is genetically encoded with Saint DNA. Today I snapped my fingers and got Cafe Rio, chocolate covered cinnamon bears and some new emery boards (this Sad Day! was pretty low key alright? I was up all night screaming my voice raw as the election returns came in - I screamed, Page was doing old cheerleading moves...classic). All festivities on Sad Day! include a heating pad.
One of the most surreal parts about infertility is that all my friends talk about breast feeding, swollen nipples, after birth cramping, pregnancy sickness, pregnancy cravings, post partum depression etc. I am still complaining about menstrual cramps! PMS! Same as I did in high school ten years ago. I am ditching out on 7th period today, my cramps are totally killing me. Don't tell Tyler ok? I would be soooo embarassed if he knew. I am so going to throw up right now...
Part of Sad Day! includes watching T.V. Christopher came into check on me, and the temperature of my heating pad, when we both saw a teaser for Access Hollywood. It was Celine Dion being interviewed and the question was something like,
"So you are trying for another baby. You have a frozen embryo in New York, right?"
And Celine said,
"I just feel that this little baby is cold and wants a mommy to give him a hand and bring him into the sunshine..."
Well, Christopher looked at me and said,
"You know how sometimes when people get money it creates a lot of problems for them? Well then there are the people that get a whole lotta money and it makes them plain crazy."
To which I replied,
"No my love. Having a whole lotta money is not what makes Celine crazy, it's more like... WELCOME TO MY MISSION!!!!"
Then Christopher had even more empathy for me on Sad Day! because I once lived with crazy people. But I loved them. In fact, I am sure that Celine has Sad Days! too because getting pregnant for her isn't as effortless as singing that high note on her rendition of "Oh Holy Night." Never-the-less, she still puts on a show stopping performance in Caesers Palace night after night. How I wish that were me...
Hello?! Christopher! I just said "HOW I WISH THAT WERE ME!!!"