Our cat, Chester, started his I’ll annoy you until you get up and feed me process around 5:30 this morning. It’s an elaborate series of kneading, hitting at the blinds and knocking things over that he’s perfected over the years. Some days I’m able to ignore this, and others, when I’m most in need of sleep, I can’t. Today was one of those mornings. Today is also Sunday, the mecca of laziness and relaxation. Where coffee and the paper are the biggest tasks ahead. I gave up on getting back to sleep, but forced myself to stay in bed reading. When I finally got up—still ridiculously early for a Sunday—Chester flew down the stairs in what some may perceive as a victory lap.
All I wanted at this point was the aforementioned coffee. Instead, I found puke, or something worse, scattered in splotches throughout the back room, dining room and kitchen. Only I didn’t really find it as much as step in it, multiple times I think, until my eyes focused and I realized what was going on. (I told you I needed coffee). A half hour of cleaning carpets, floors and digging out the bottoms of my slippers, Double A woke up, came down and made the coffee.
Reading the paper these days is more like scanning the headlines as I turn through the pages. My mind too scattered to focus. My brain too numb to care. And now with the holidays coming, the ads (which literally outweighed the actual news sections) have turned into kid and baby central. Another relaxing ritual has turned into an exercise of jumping around the landmines. I got through the paper quickly and was feeling ooutsey (a phrase my mom coined for being anxious and out of sorts) and sad.
It was a beautiful day outside, sunny and 60s. A rarity for a November Chicago day. I wanted to go for a walk, or even try running again. But I knew since it was so nice out that the families would be out in droves on our neighborhood’s main drag. I felt like a prisoner in my home whose torture would actually be worse if allowed out. I could’ve hit our spin bike, but the past few times I’ve done that, my workout endorphins also released the tears. And in case you don’t know, it is really hard to have a good workout and cry at the same time.
Today was also my cousin’s baby shower. I should’ve been there to help her celebrate. I should’ve been there fielding questions about my protruding belly and our upcoming twins. Just like I should have been at her wedding last year, 8 months pregnant, rather than 4 months after our fourth loss. Just another reminder, and only one of the many upcoming baby showers that I can’t bring myself to go to.
I realize that separately, none of these things should knock me down. Well, that’s not true because the whole not wanting to leave the house because I don’t know who we’ll run into or what we’ll see, and/or not being able to share in the joy of another’s pregnancy do qualify right now. It is just that these days, it is a series of daily life’s “normal” ups and downs that knock us around like those giant wind puppets. And some days you want to curl up and hide because you’re tired of wondering, “Does everything need to be this hard?”
Some days you feel defeated, which should not be confused with giving up. Just tired and sad. And tired of feeling sad. Yeah, today is definitely a some day.