Getting Out of a Funk

I’ve been having a low day.  I know everybody does, but it still catches me off guard sometimes.  It’s not that I don’t have reasons to be low, I just hate letting the circumstances affect my day.

The morning started with “Aunt Flo” coming to town.  That in and of itself is not a reason for ruining your day, but this is the first month my husband and I started trying again to get pregnant, so every period is a little stab.  We tried for nearly a year and a half before taking a break, and I promised myself to not let it absorb my thoughts this time around as it did then.  The break was very good for my psyche, but I can’t help but feel like I’m back where I was in the grind of it.

This is the first time we’ve tried that I’ve been back at (below) the weight I was when I got pregnant with Elliot, so in some ways, this is the test I have been waiting for.  During the entire time we tried before, the nagging thought in my brain was that I was heavier, and until I got back down, I didn’t want to bother going to seek fertility help.

I know statistically at my age, I only have a one in five chance of getting pregnant each month, so it would take time regardless.  I also am aware that several things affect fertility, not least of all stress.  We find out either this week or next whether or not my husband will be offered a full time position where he has been contracted, so that’s been weighing heavily on both of us.

I continued through the rest of my day, and I had some stressors at church this morning – nothing out of my ability, but enough to keep my head off all morning.  It’s Super Bowl Sunday, and we have no plans.  It’s not that we care about the game, but each year this seems to be the day that we’re reminded of our incredibly limited social circle.  I try to be grateful for what we have, but it’s hard to not feel that loneliness and isolation creep back in on days like this.   

After lunch and battling to get the little man to stay in his room, I laid down for a nap.  After laying there for an hour, it didn’t come, so I decided to do what I normally do when I can’t sleep anymore…grab a workout.

It’s amazing what that half hour has done for my entire being.  I’m still tired.  I’m still a little sad.  I’m still a bit out of it.  But I feel strong.  The time flew by, and I’m glad I did it. 

I am now sitting on my amazing porch on the most gorgeous day we have had in months, doing something I love to do that I haven’t done in years…writing down my thoughts.  I’m not sure when these will be shared, but simply getting them out of my head onto the page is helping me work through things. 

I plan on being pretty transparent in this blog.  I really don’t have anything to hide.  I’ve felt both unashamedly happy and utterly depressed at different points in my life, and I figure it all evens out in the end.  Regardless, I never know when what I am struggling with might resonate with someone else, and it might even help validate the challenges you are going through.

Either way, I’m going to get back to writing one way or another.