Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Dirty little secret.

This weekend, My Guy and I helped his sister and her husband prep their nursery. They've been married a few weeks and are still in the midst of combining households. Their daughter is due in March.

The weekend was emotionally exhausting - maybe that's why I haven't blogged for several days. I have post traumatic stress disorder.

My task at hand was cutting in the pale lilac paint in the nursery. Yeah, I freehanded it. Yeah, I'm totally an excellent painter after painting our entire house. Lookit me go!

Except.

In the midst of working my trim magic, I realized I was painting someone else's nursery. You know, safely breathing in those paint fumes, like the infertile, completely not-pregnant woman I am.

And then? Then, all I could think about was the Huey Lewis and The News song, "Doin' It All For My Baby." Damn you, Huey Lewis! I love you, but damn you and your baby-centric propaganda!

So, I painted pale lilac walls for my niece. I hummed Huey Lewis songs and said a little prayer - for her, for me, for us.

5 comments:

  1. So painful for you on so many different levels.

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  2. Ugh. That sounds like a fifth of gin kind of day, honey.

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  3. I can't even begin to imagine the conflict you must feel, with this already unpleasant family situation so close on the heels of your own infertility diagnosis.

    Hoarding is its own sad and gruesome disease, isn't it? If it helps even a little to write about it--remember, we're out here reading your words and nodding, and wishing we could give you a squeeze.

    Hang in there, Auntie! She needs you, even if she doesn't know it yet.

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  4. Sending hugs your way. If you were closer, I would have already dragged your ass out for a HUGE alcoholic beverage.

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  5. Oh God. You nailed me with Huey Lewis. All that teenage angst came flooding back...

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