The other day, I started researching adoption, foster care programs. And Sid said he didn't want to do it, that he was not ready, not able to take that step. I do not understand: I only want to be a parent, I don't care how that child comes to us. I mentioned it on one of the boards I post at, and another one of the women there also dealing with infertility thought it was a great idea. Her husband agreed, it is a wonderful idea. They are starting the foster-parent training.
I am glad for her, I am so glad that she is finally happy, that her husband shares her feelings. And yet I spent the rest of the day struggling not to cry. I was so frustrated and angry at Sid for foisting this kind of despair on me, for not being willing to consider any of the options available to us, that it was actually very hard for me to be civil. I felt like a bratty child. Still do, actually, but I'm well-behaved today.
To add insult to injury, he went out and bought a $600 lens for his $300 camera. Without telling me. I hit the roof. What the hell were you thinking? My god, when you finally decide that you're ready for a kid, you won't hesitate to drop the cash to make it happen, will you? That money could have bought three rounds of artificial insemination, it could have bought nearly 80 digital pregnancy tests, it could have bought a crib and a changing table! What the fuck were you thinking?! Not.happy. I am tired of waiting, I am tired of having what I want deemed stupid and unnecessary. I am sick of being told to be patient, that I shouldn't be so unhappy, that we're doing it without condoms and it will happen! No, it is not going to happen. I have given up hope of that. I have given up entirely on this whole thing, and right now I would like to see him just fucking castrated.
We started this feeling so hopeful, so sure that everything would work out for us. And looking back, we were so fucking stupid, so naive and full of hubris. We just assumed thateverything would be fine! And when we started to realize that everything was not fine, that everything was, in fact, fucked up and nothing would turn out the way we'd imagined... well, it all fell apart. I'm mad at Sid for being uncooperative and I'm sure he's mad at me for being an obsessive bitch.
I am so unspeakably sick and tired of being jealous of my friends' good fortune. I am tired of being happy for them for only one second before the stab of bitterness and anger takes over. I am fucking tired of being that woman. And yet I don't know how to stop. Trust me, I would dearly like to stop.