Spring Cleaning

I’m 9 days from surgery and I have been recently obsessed with making my house spotless. Mostly because I am blessed to be well loved and know that people will come to visit at a time when cleaning will be difficult. 

Hubby worked in the ER and I decided to let him sleep in while I cleaned the office. I keep saying I’m going to make it into a yoga and meditation room. I conceded to “exercise” room but right now it’s an office that we set aside as a nursery when we bought the house. Being an extra and somewhat empty space, I’ve subconsciously filled it with everything I didn’t have a place for…including a fridge full of IVF drugs I’ll never be able to use before they expire. 

As I’m cleaning, I’m picking up packages of needles, gauze, alcohol, progesterone, estrogen. 4 cycles completed and 1 cancelled has left me with a large amount of stuff I can’t use. And I’m finding myself getting very angry. Irrationally angry. 

I feel a sense of guilt that somewhere someone can’t afford meds and I have a full cycle waiting to expire. I feel a sense of loss that it’s all still siting here waiting for me and I just can’t do it. I feel grief that this room is still a cluttered fucking office and not a nursery. 

I’m kind of a hoarder. I hate letting go of things that seem useful. Clothes that will never fit again, stuffed animals, birthday cards, all stashed somewhere I never see them but to move them. It would do me so much good to take a trash bag and throw everything away and put the fridge out of sight in the basement but I just can’t do it. It’s like $8,000 worth of stuff that someone might need before 2018 and I’m tossing it because I don’t like looking at it? That’s so wasteful. 

I’m kind of feeling that this room isn’t the only thing in need of some spring cleaning. So I’m sitting, paralyzed, in the middle of this room and am just at a loss for how to attack. 

It has been a weird week. I found out that a fellow infertile myrtle is finally pregnant. My joy for her was coupled with a sad realization that there’s a good chance my whole support group will have children before I’m even able to try again. Later that day, I saw a Facebook announcement of a wonderful couple in my life and I was happy for her but the cosmic injustice was felt strongly. I came home and received a baby shower invite in the mail. I texted Hubby “this day is out to get me”. 

It should have motivated me. I should have been like “This is why I’m doing this ridiculous thing” but instead I was immobile on the couch all night. 

I think I read somewhere that problems come equally from what you’re eating and what’s eating you. 

Yep. Definitely thought this was going better before. 

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