So, How's it going?

I believe I'm done sorting through the baby things, and I'm still alive. Shocker, I know, but it's true. There were a couple of moments of heavy tears, but once the intense sorting got underway, it was quite liberating to process through all of the stuff.

These things have been such a integral part of my journey. With the progression of each pregnancy, I would add a little more and a little more, with the absolute climax being the day when we discovered Zachary was a boy and not a girl. (That was the day my friend Jenny blessed us with about 1/10 of the inventory of Babies R'Us. I exaggerate, but only slightly.) I cannot even count the number of people to whom I have said, "But we have all this stuff. We don't need a single thing to bring a baby home." Having all the stuff just intensified the injustice of it all.

But now I've gone through the stuff, and somehow, by going through it all, it no longer has power over me. I no longer feel the guilt of not having a baby to make use of everything. At this point, it's no more than just a big bunch of baby clutter. Quite honestly, the majority of what I've been storing is nothing more than a pastel-colored pile of laundry, and we all know how I feel about that. I'm really glad to have it sorted, and to at least have the "what goes where" organized in my mind.

On an interesting note, when I sorted the very last bin -- "Baby Boy Clothes, 0-6 mo." -- I noticed that I had taken everything neatly out of the closet and packed it away neat and flat and still on hangers. Firstly, I do not remember doing that. I have tried and tried to recall the day that I packed that bin, but I cannot. Secondly, WHY would I pack everything still on hangers? I know I had just freshly prepared everything, but still -- did I think someone would call and inform me that it had all been a really bad joke, to go ahead and hang everything back up?

It's amazing what sort of peculiar things one does while flailing about in the middle of a black hole of despair.

I finished sorting last night, and this morning, I called my doctor for a prescription of birth control pills. I'm thinking it's time to begin taking them -- at least for a season. I have seven days to think about it before the pharmacy mafia starts calling with the threats of "Pick up your prescription or else." Here's what I'm thinking about:

With regards to taking birth control, having a span of time to just recover and clear my mind would be helpful to my overall functioning on the Earth. It would be nice to not live in two week increments, at least for this moment. (Whether actively trying to get pregnant or not, we've been on this path for so long that it is impossible for me not to count days. Zachary was, after all, the result of me losing track. You lose alot of valuable, irreplacable time when your mind is overwhelmed by the 2ww.) I would like to plan a summer vacation. I would like to begin considering fall classes. I would like to make any plan without the thought of "But, what if I get pregnant?"

I know already even before taking it that birth control would only be a short-term option. I know I would not take it for years and years -- I am not that disciplined or that interested. What I'm thinking right now is that I would take it for as long as I need to finish what I'm working on educationally. I've been frustrated by the fact that my family feels complete when I'm just now at that age many people are before they start their families, but it really dawned on me last night that I'm just now at an age where many people start. It is not unreasonable that I could take a lengthy break from even having the option of conceiving, finish up with school, and then, in a couple of years, reproductively jump in again with both feet. I don't know why it took me until then to see it, but for some reason last night, my glass-half-empty suddenly flipped over.

I have seven days to think about this decision, or longer if I choose, but I think birth control is a likely option for me. Opportunities come and go. Plans change, like it or not. I am intimately familiar with that fact. But for the right here, right now, I actually feel a slight sense of relief for maybe, possibly, having a plan and the ability to move forward in it.