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I am pleasantly surprised at how happy I feel for one of my dearest friends. She is pregnant. Perhaps it doesn't get me down because her situation is not like that of so many women's that I have read about online -- !POOF! and they're pregnant.
While she has not been trying long to conceive, this friend has been struggling for years with severe endometriosis, to the point of two separate surgeries and drugs that caused her to experience premature menopause. When her specialist finally told her to "use it or lose it", so to speak, she and her partner decided to start planning a wedding and get on with things. I feel relieved for her, even if it means that she will be six months along at her wedding.
My friend is also encouraging me to inquire about the possibility that I may have endometriosis. While the term is certainly not foreign to me, I am not well-versed in the details of this disease. She thinks that my recent monthly symptoms, so much more uncomfortable since the miscarriage, are similar to those she experienced before her treatment. I am hesitant to really follow up on this, other than seeking more information about the disease on the Internet.
I am enjoying my new email friends, some of whom I've met on parenting sites while others are new customers for my beauty consulting business. I am also, however, growing weary of the few with whom I correspond who send me regular details on the growth and development of their precious children. Catty as that sounds, I think that weekly emails (or more often in some cases) of how little so-and-so is beginning to enjoy pureed fruits are a bit much. There are days when I receive so much email that I cannot possibly read it all, especially now that I am again filling in at the large children's hospital for another friend.
Later this month, my dh (Internet language for "dear husband") and I will finally take our much-deserved honeymoon to San Francisco. We are so in need of getting away from everything, I am practically holding my breath until then. Unfortunately, the timing of this trip is throwing a kink in my scheduled blood tests for the specialist. I have tried to work out a different schedule with the doctor's office, but apparently these samples can only be drawn on very specific days. Jim is encouraging me to put the whole matter aside, for now, and just concentrate on relaxing during the trip. As emotionally tired as I still feel, it takes little coaxing from him to agree on that...
© Tracy Morris
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