But What If I Need Butter?

The past couple of weeks have been a little hard on the emotional side of things... which, if you know me well, is not something I ever readily admit to. I blame it on the upcoming holidays. A lot of people have difficulty this time of year... those who have lost loved ones, those who don't have close loved ones, those who are ill... i could go on and on. Infertility fits squarely in that catgory of people. The holidays are largely centered around children... from the songs on the radio down to the cutesy Rudolph onesie in Target... for instance, on a normal summer day, walking by the 'baby' section of Wal-Mart makes me hold my breath and walk a little faster. During the holidays, I might as well avoid that area of the store all together... which is unfortunate because it is next to the dairy section where they keep wonderful things like butter and milk. Heck, Christmas is a holiday firmly centered around THE baby, for crying out loud... Nativity scenes once made me feel very peaceful and calm... now they just turn me into a blubbering mess.

So, all that to say, I've been a little touchy. Which is directly related to how I ended up crying in the bathroom at a church during a ladies' evening while everyone else enjoyed their cheesecake and coffee and listened intently to a speaker telling us how to "Bring Home the Wonder of Christmas"... the last straw on the proverbial camel's back was this cheesy song about Mary and how she felt about Jesus... so I did what any touchy barren woman would do... I faked a choking cough to explain my watery eyes and high-tailed it to the loo where I could regain my composure in private. I am not ashamed people:-) But, that is not where my emotional mini-breakdown started...

It all started ealier in the evening listening to other women complain about their children... A little disclaimer- I know being a parent is the most difficult job on the planet... I know that sleepless nights make you crazy, and tantruming children make you want to sell them on the black market, and teenagers have their own universe of problems. I know that mothers need to feel comfortable expressing their frustration with mothering sometimes, and that there is a lot of pressure to be supermom... I know.

But, the fact still remains that I would give absolutely anything in the entire world to have the opportunity to complain about having to get up every night for a year to nurse my child.

This song has been in my head a lot lately... most of you have probably seen or heard it. If so, go about your business. If not, I encourage you to listen and watch. Just ignore the theatrical hand motions... they annoy me...