750 Words

I read somewhere the other day that a 750-word (or three page) brain dump is just about right for emptying your head so you can get over feeling overwhelmed and focus on what needs to be done. I'm pretty sure I have more than 750 words' worth of overwhelming crap stuffed in my brain right now, but I'm not actually going to count. "750 Words" is a nicer-sounding title than "Brain Dump," at any rate.

I'm having trouble with the whole baby thing right now. The 1st anniversary of my second MC is coming up at the end of the month (I guess the anniversary of the day her heart actually stopped beating is any day now) (and that's right, I said "her," because after almost a year of not really feeling sure or being afraid to commit to a feeling in case I'm wrong, I suddenly, finally have a strong gut feeling that baby #1 was a boy, and #2 was a girl, and it doesn't really matter if I'm wrong, does it?). I don't know if it's because of that, or because I'm still shaky from the loss of Mom and Rob and Bobo, or if it's because I'll be 38 in 3 weeks and I'm a little panicky that time is slipping away and we're going to lose our window of opportunity. It's probably all of the above. But after months of having finally reached a place where I could be around babies and enjoy them, and read about other women's pregnancies and feel genuinely happy for them, suddenly I'm back at a place where I just CANNOT deal with hearing about other women being pregnant, or being new moms, and being around all my little grandnieces and nephews is really painful again.

I miss being pregnant. I really want to be pregnant again, but I'm terrified of trying again without getting tested for PCOS first. And I'm frustrated over our insurance situation, and the fact that even if we could afford insurance, it would be another year before the maternity coverage kicked in, plus it's doubtful if it would cover PCOS treatment anyway since I'm pretty sure that goes under the Infertility Treatment category, and did I mention that I'm about to turn 38?

One thing I do not want to hear ever again from anybody is that hey, at least I know I can get pregnant, isn't that great? Because no, it's not great to know that you can get pregnant but that for some reason your body can't keep a baby alive, and besides, THIRTY EIGHT, so who knows what my aging ovaries are going to decide to do once we're finally ready to try again?

So there's that.

I also feel like my work is split in too many directions and nothing is really getting off the ground and I really need to pick one project and stick with it until it's done; but I also need to get paid, which means other people's projects take precedence. But I just want to block off about 5 days to get the blog class up and running, but then I'll need time to market it, and I have these other blogs that I've committed to, and trying to build my mailing lists and keep them happy, and I'm really not in love with the whole Internet Marketing thing right now, and every day I wish I could be writing instead. Writing fiction, that is.

Because suddenly I keep thinking about Dominion of the Damned and how it needs to end and how I can improve what I've already written, but how the hell am I supposed to find any time to write right now? And I really wish I could because it would do wonders for my sanity.

I didn't sleep at all last night, mainly because the plot of this book I don't have time for kept playing itself over and over in my mind. And also a whole plan for publishing and marketing it all indy-style.

I have too much on my plate, and everybody in my life really needs to stop dying right now, and I'm seethingly jealous of every mom in the history of ever, and I just want to write, and I also just want to go watch TV, and I want to go lie down, and I want to do all three of those things on a beach in the Yucatan while being served ice cold cervezas and margaritas and having my feet rubbed. Oh yes, I can dream.

And now you all know just how insane I am right now, but yes, it does feel better to get all of this down and out of my head. I think if I can get a good night's sleep tonight, then tomorrow I might actually be useful and somewhat less crazy. Here's hoping.