Asshole Moments

And I am pretty sure I'm having one as I type. Let me check....... yeah, I am having an asshole moment.

In case you aren't sure what an 'asshole moment' is, it's when a overall loving, kind, understanding, caring, helpful and generous person (in this case, that would be ME) is having 'asshole' thoughts, or otherwise wrapped up in their own things so much that when they hear someone's good news, they realize that they couldn't really give a rat's ass, or find it in them, at that moment, to be the slightest bit happy for them.

Today I found myself DEEP, D.E.E.P. in an asshole moment at the dinner table. It is so unlike me to feel the way I found myself feeling when Z dropped his suspicions on me like a Nuke.

Sitting at dinner, he was telling me "I think Suz is pregnant. Az, her sister almost told me something, and she was talking to her infertility specialist (that would be Dr. Indifferent/Smartass that dumped my ass on Wand Monkey 2 yrs ago, for the record) on the phone, all whispering, and Az started to say something to me, but then shut up when she got 'the look' from her sister. " That would be his neice. The sister of the one that had TRIPLETS this year. And also the sister of the one that had the little baby boy a month after the triplets were born, that stole the name I had planned to use for my as-yet-unconcieved-son. I tend to trust Z's instincts when it concerns women he thinks are pregnant. Why? He hasn't been wrong yet.

Excecpt in MY case, that is.

Well, FUCK.

Like I wasn't in a bad enough funk as is? Like that physically painful desire for another baby isn't ripping my guts apart again, much like the pain of the ovarian cysts, goddamn them ALL, that are ringing my ovaries like "perfectly matched twin pearl necklaces". (For the record, the Doc that made THAT statement to me yet lives, for some strange reason.) That, while I have been taking care of my very sick triplet neices and nephew, whom I love to distraction, even Maya, the firstborn moody grumpy one, and while holding my admittidly favorite, Talya, and Khalid screaming cause he is jealous of the attention his sister is getting from me, I realise yet again just how much I adore babies and little children, and taking care of them, even when they are so badly sick. When I realize that only blogging and writing makes me as happy as sitting in that room with 3 6 1/2 month olds, an almost 3 year old, and my own 10-year old daughter and ME, on the floor in the middle of it all, playing and entertaining all of them. When I see the joy on their little faces when I walk in to the room to see them and they smile that baby gummy smile at me, my heart just melts.

I was holding Talya close to me, massaging her back to ease her breathing (lungs badly infected) and she was nestled so close to me, with one hand FULL of my hair and the other resting on my breast, and she would occasionally lift her head back to look in my eyes, smile, and then put her head back down. I found myself rocking her, humming a song and kissing her sweet head. She, and the other two, are such good babies, even as sick as they all are, bless them.

I love children. I think you get the hint, right?

So there I sat at the dinner table apparently with a funny look on my face that was somewhat dazed. So much so that EVEN Z noticed it and said "um, what's with that look?" I said "you know? I just can't bring myself to be happy for her if you're right. At least not right now. And that makes me even sadder. Cause I can't. I just can't." Then I got quiet (another shocker, that) and continued to gaze unfocused at some vague thing on the table.

He looked surprised because honestly! I am always happy for others when I find out they are pregnant and he knows it. Even when I had cycle buddies during my IVF trials (all 4 of em), and I didn't get pregnant, but some of my cycle buddies did, I was genuinely happy for them. I mean it. I felt joy that at least, if not for me, it worked for someone.

I feel, quite frankly, cursed. I'm frustrated beyond belief. And if Suz is pregnant, it is yet another failure on my part. Why? Cause, she has infertility issues ALSO, like her big sister Az. Because, she has had 10 frozen embryo's in cryo-freeze for 4 years or so. Her son is going to be 3 in February.

I'm fed up with the pitiful looks I get when people hear about another family member being pregnant, but not me. I'm particulary pissed with the comments that flow my way from Monster when another of her grandaughters ends up announcing a pregnancy, yet another pregnancy, and she makes her remarks about me and my womb being useless and lacking. That bitch. When she tells her son, "Yeah, don't hold your breath for that one (that would be ME) to give you another child. She's useless.". (Screw that old broad and the broom she rode in on.) If that comment didn't really hit so close to the truth, and hurt not quite as much as it does every time she says it, I'd probably rip her a new as*hole, but I don't.

I want a baby. So very badly. For me. And for Arianna most importantly. That biological clock you hear so much about, that I have scoffed at as a complete load of crap for years? Well, its ticking deafeningly loud in my head now.

But most of all? I'm dissappointed in myself and ashamed for my asshole moment.

I should be insanely happy. Why? I forgot to tell you all the good news from Dec 16th, which is National Day here in Bahrain.

Six years ago Z and I applied for a housing loan from the Government. They give you a big chunk of money to do a) buy a newly bulit house b) buy a piece of land c) build a house on land you already own or d) give you a piece of crap govt home or apt. We chose option A for a number of reasons.

1) they give you the most cash that way. 2) you get the approval quicker than the other options 3) we don't own any land, so option c was kinda moot, don't you think? 4) some other reasons. 5) doesn't Option d explain itself well enough? Yeah, I thought so.

The beauty is, the loans are peanuts in repayment amounts and interest on money borrowed. Also? Every now and then, His Most Gracious Majesty gets it in his head to 'forgive' 50% of the amount owed and with the snap of his fingers, half of your loan, and thus your monthly payment, is cut in half, which is hardly anything to begin with.

Now, mind you, the money they give is based on male salary income and is nowhere near enough to buy a house outright, but still, in our case, the government part is literally HALF of the cost of a house. So, we would need to take a loan for the remainder from a normal or Commercial bank to pay the rest of the purchase price.

The catch? You have THREE months to find a place. If you beg nicely, you can get an additional 3 month extension for a total of SIX months to find a place. If at that time, you don't have anything, they take the money alloted for you and give to someone else.

So yeah, for slightly more than we are paying in rent, we can be paying a mortgage payment! Yeah, a home of our own is within arms reach. (Yes, the day of the announcement in the paper, later that afternoon, I was out looking for houses driving around in the rain, wandering around construction sites) If I'm anything, I'm proactive. Heh.

So yeah, you would think the excitement of the house would overshadow the lack of figuring out which room could be a baby nursery, wouldn't you? Yeah, you'd think so.

My other problem comes into play here. Monster, it is a given, will be coming WITH US. SO HOW can I get all 'into' the idea of a new home? Of our first home? He knows I don't want this. Can't take this really, but still, each empty home we walk around, he's mumbling/commenting about which room should be his mom's and there goes my pleasure in it out the window. There is one house I fell in love with when it was being built 6 years ago and the whole top floor (its multi-level) is a Master Suite. I keep thinking defensively about that house. Why defensively? Cause that Master Suite is on the whole top floor of the house and is big. I could barricade myself up there concieveably. And that is defineltly a selling point. Well, that and the fact that it is across the street from the sea and all the windows face the water. But every mention of "Mom would probably be scared to live here, or Oh this could be Mom's room" gets another asshole moment starting up with me.

More house hunting tomorrow. I think I'll do this one on my own.

Faugh. I'm not a bitch. I promise you. Really I'm not.