matt is awesome*

What I love about my husband:

• he's MY husband ;) Of all women, he chose me to share his life with.
• his humor; while he appreciates and could quote "Night at the Roxbury," he has his own brand of quirky humor, which I find mostly funny and always adorable
• his smile... it was the first thing that won me over. And how easily he smiles.
• his eyes... the next thing that won me over. And how honest they seem.
• his openness and honesty. The fact that he feels guilty about calling in sick to work (okay, I think that's a little ridiculous but I appreciate how honest he is).
• his responsibility and hard work ethic. The fact that I know I don't have to worry about him not working whatever he needed to for us to make it.
• his work ethic and ambition in how he strives to be the best at whatever he's doing, and the pride he takes in the job he does
• his attention to detail -- from model ships to whether or not I've touched his wallet because it's now at a slightly different angle than he left it
• his love and affection with the pets, and how Jack has grown on him despite his initial dislike of cats; how he makes them special meals because his dad's dog died of dog food poisoning; how he walks all the way into the garage to let Jack into his food area so that Jack doesn't have to burn any calories walking around the side of the house in the elements to his food
• his affectionateness and how he holds me and kisses me
• the sound of his voice, especially when he's in a good mood and sings songs with new lyrics that he makes up
• how he makes coffee every morning and pours me a mug; and cannot help but buying about 5 varieties of coffee creamer every time we go to the store
• that a romantic dinner for him could just as easily be a Domino's pizza or Chinese takeout
• that he can't get enough sports... which I also find occasionally irritating, except that I had a lifetime of training to tolerate it, being my father's daughter
• that he's is more eerily similar to my dad than I originally realized... which is both familiar/comforting and slightly maddening (but in a humorous "I never thought I'd marry a guy so like my father, I swore I wouldn't" kind of way)
• that his obsessiveness is so similar to my own obsessiveness (Scorpios?) that I understand him in a deep knowing way, because I am also like that
• that even though I wish most of the time that in my bad mood, he would take the role of cheer'er-up'er, that he's so sensitive to my feelings that he's empathetic and we share moods
• his love of cereal
• his particular-ness; it's annoying and strange but it's also endearing
• how much he appreciates and notices what I do for him and for us
• that with enough hinting (nagging) that I like both cards and flowers, he got me BOTH for Valentine's Day

There's a start :)

Constantly Waiting*

I'm trying to put it out of my head, since it's obviously not meant for us yet, but it's hard when we've got to a point in which we want to get pregnant, we're ready to start our family and we're excited for that time, to just have to keep waiting. 

Pretending to still be optimistic. Pretending not to be disappointed every 4 weeks. Pretending like I'm not secretly worried there's some physical issue. Pretending like I'm fully happy for all the people who announce their pregnancy (I swear with Facebook it's like one a week). Pretending like one more month will really be utilized as another month longer to save, or to get more in shape, or to just really enjoy it being just us two. Pretending I'm not jealous when I see people with kids. Pretending it's not discouraging when people ask when we're having kids. 

How do people keep doing this? I get that it's only been six months and a few weeks, or seven attempts, but it feels like such a long time. I know they say the average healthy couple or like 85% of couples get pregnant in 6-12 months but it's still discouraging. And I don't have many people to talk to. Friends have either had their first, and not so recently, or had theirs recently but didn't have any wait time, or not even in the place where they're ready for children yet. And my mom tries to be comforting but she's "accidentally" conceived me over 30 years ago then had virtually no wait with Joe's conception. The only comfort has been to meet one new friend who has been trying with her husband for 25 months! That's forever to me. But she's also several years younger so maybe she still feels like she has plenty of time to keep trying.

Which it's not that I think 30 is old but in a sense, it is. I realize that my ability to get pregnant is so much less than it was when I was 15 but for crying out loud, who would've wanted me pregnant at 15 anyhow? Or 25? Frankly I was never ready to be a parent before now. And it's strange in a way to think of my period in the complete opposite way than I used to. Every cramp is now like an extra kick in the ovaries to rub it in that I'm not pregnant.

And although last month I took it like a champ, reasonable and practical and calm, every other month it's all I can do not to burst into tears every few minutes for at least the rest of the first day. I like to blame that on the rush of PMS/menstrual hormones that are also conveniently present when I realize another month was a bust. It feels terrible. I suddenly feel so depressed, so defeated and frustrated and disappointed and just sad. Then it brings Matt down because he thinks I'm mad at him and he can't cheer me up. Or worse, he thinks I'm just so unhappy with life of just the two of us. 

Which isn't true. I am happy. And almost every other day of the month, I'm able to say in my head "okay, this is just more time to really appreciate having all Matt's attention, and him having all mine. To still be able to go out to breakfast without hassle. To still be able to go wherever I want without carting a child around. To still be sexual wherever we want. To sleep in to whatever hours, all through the night..." But the problem is that in my heart, I don't care about that. I'm already ready for sleepless nights and crying babies and poo'y diapers and feeling stressed and overburdened and overworked and underappreciated and... loved as a mother.

It's like realizing you're finally ready to be in a serious relationship then just waiting for that perfect guy to find his way into your life, not knowing when it'll happen and starting to half doubt that it will. Or realizing you're ready to marry that person, and then you're so excited that you just wish the wedding day was tomorrow so you could enjoy it and enjoy the ever-after, even as you know you should be appreciating the engagement. 

It's terrifying to think how my life will change when we are finally pregnant. There's a little amount of fear in me. How could there not be (when I'm ominously told that my life will completely change forever in ways I can neither anticipate nor prepare for)? But the excitement that it might be time keeps me overanalyzing every body feeling for some early indication to put my mind at ease one way or another. 

I'm too overanalytical for my own good. How can I not think about it so much?

Maybe baby wants a birthday right before mom & dad... guess we'll see if February brings us any luck...