These days, I find that if I stay manically busy, it's all good. I feel genuinely happy and lucky. Maybe even happy-go-lucky.
But the minute I am alone and activity slows down to a hum, it's harder to stave off the thoughts. All of them: anger, impossible sadness, confusion, dread, fear, envy. It's like I live a double emotional life.
So, because I am not a total moron and understand that this is not necessarily a healthy way to go about my days, I sighed and opened up my insurance list of in-network therapists and decided to make some calls again and see if I could find someone reasonably competent. I can't remember if I wrote about it here, but last time I did this, it didn't go terribly well. One woman actually nodded off during our session, after asking me what IVF is. Yeah.
Anyway, this time after a few unencouraging calls (one woman said "I am advanced in years" and then asked me the same question twice in a row), I heard back from someone who sounded like she could work. She knew what IVF is, is located nearby and confirmed she still accepted our plan. Our first appointment was today.
During the visit, as I spilled my sad story to lay the groundwork for a possible ongoing relationship during which she might say some magical thing that will teach me how to live in this new world order, I said I was truly lucky to have H. And then she said: "But apparently not lucky enough." And I played it cool, but I have to tell you it took my breath away.
I mean, beyond it sort of being laced with judgment, as a statement from a therapist definitely should not be, it made me think for a minute. Is it true? Is it possibly true that I think I haven't been lucky enough? I tell myself that the millions of people who try and succeed to have a second child aren't told they are pressing their luck. But maybe when you struggle, you are supposed to take what you get, if you're lucky enough to get anything (which I know some are not). Maybe that's the whole point.
I called her out a bit, at the end. I asked her if when she said that, she maybe thought that this "problem" I'm presenting with isn't really a problem, per se. She said we all experience things differently and who is she to say what is a real problem and what is not. Which sounds to me like a way of dancing around the question of whether she thinks it's a real problem.
The session was only $16 out of pocket, but I am wondering if I should go back. Maybe coping in silence is better, in the end, than being told you're greedy. Even if it's true.