Late Night Confession. Ugh.

Can’t sleep even though I was so relaxed and ready to crawl under those soft flannel sheets and…why?

Because at the last-minute before bed, I flipped out because I couldn’t find a folder. The folder with the paperwork. The folder with the paperwork for the blood tests tomorrow to start our adventure into fertility testing.

(I needed to know if it was a fasting blood test or not…sigh…)

And I mean flipped out. Like 10 years ago Jenny flipped out. (HWMMS has mellowed me significantly…)

So there I was at midnight SCREAMING that I couldn’t find the folder, there was no OTHER place it could be! I looked frantically, yelled and got frustrated and assumed the universe was against the idea of us trying to have children and we should just forget about it already.

All because of a misplaced folder.

No, I’m not proud. In fact I’m the total opposite of proud, I flipped out and took it out on my kind unassuming Husband who just sat there looking at me wondering what he could do to help. While I was yelling at him to help, help, well, help find it! He thought we could call the office in the morning and OF COURSE WE CAN’T THEY NEED THE PAPERWORK INSIDE THE FOLDER.

My gosh, In a mere matter of minutes I reverted to an irrational petulant child. All or nothing. The folder is gone, we are doomed, it is a sign, I think the scariest part about me typing these words out on the page right now is realizing that I used to freak out like this quite a bit more often…part of the joy of dealing with anxiety/depression over the last 20 years. These days it’s a rare occasion for me to be so ridiculous (without some reason at least, this one was not really a reason.) And I am very ashamed of my behavior and blessed to have a Husband that is able to just roll with it…and love me despite my self and uncalled for outbursts of rage.

Confession? It’s been an emotional past few weeks for me…the waiting and not knowing landed right at the time I turned 40 and we weren’t even TRYING to get pregnant that month. The cycles that have been regular give or take a day or three here and there for about two years suddenly went whacko and all the negative tests just confirmed I had a three-week wicked case of PMS instead. I knew that starting the beginning of January we would start testing—yay! And then instead, I was gifted with an extra two-week wait. Talk about messing with my mind…everything regular and fine until BAM my 40th birthday hits, my regular cycle derails and we  can’t even start with the fertility testing and head to the doctor. Surprise! OBVIOUSLY by my reaction tonight I’m not quite as unaffected by this revelation as I thought I was.

On top of these emotions and hormonal crazies…someone I love to the core has been hurt deeply by someone I used to? no longer? can’t forgive *yet* ending her marriage and family as she knew it. A dear friend/sorority sister who just visited for my birthday a week before was in a serious car accident and is lucky to be alive. And our old pup Henri the Doggie had to be rushed to the ER vet because of another severe pneumonia type lung infection and had to spend two nights on IVs and meds to be able to come home.  We were lucky the last time to bring him home, this time? Super lucky. Stubborn pup.

Lots of stressful reasons for insane emotional imbalances…on top of 3 weeks of PMS. But there’s NEVER a good reason to flip out over something so simple as a missing folder and raise my voice to someone I love more than I ever thought possible who just wants to help me find the damn folder and get to bed already…

Mountain out of a molehill. I found the folder in the closet of course…and I still don’t know if I’m supposed to fast or not. Sigh.

Poor HWMMS. I can only imagine my moods getting crazier along this journey…I hope it is all worth it in the end.