It turns out that I have been stressed out lately. This, I think, is a combination of seven (SEVEN) months of trying to get knocked up, currently being in the two-week wait, an annoying work trip that was hanging over my head, and also, out of the last eight months, having overnight guests for what adds up to five of them. Yes, five out of eight, as in more than 50%. We had my mother in law for two months, my sister for two months, a cousin for a week, various family members for 10 days at Christmas, and the odd weekend guests here and there. For a total of 5 months’ worth of houseguests. Geeze. And in all that time, I am stealthily sneaking off to the doctor to try to get myself pregnant.
Anyway, I had a meltdown yesterday on my way to work, during which I decided that I should do something nice for myself, to distract me from obsessively staring at my chart and also to reward myself for so patiently (ha!) enduring the people that I love, but that have been treating my house like a bed and breakfast for the last 5 months. So! I will Do Something For Myself and get some kind of hair treatment, I decide. This left me with two options. One, to dye my hair MSCL red, like I did in college. In case you are not familiar:
Appropriate, because that expression sums up how I have been feeling for about 3 weeks. Also, my hair is that length. I am not 14, though. The other thing I could do is to get bangs. Or maybe, MSCL red and bangs?
During a particularly boring but somehow also stressful day at work, I had a phone conversation with my wife. I told her that (1) if not pregnant, I wanted to take next month off, and (2) I was dying my hair MSCL red, or else getting bangs. Just like that, one after another. Of course, she was all (1) don’t I get a say in whether you take a month off? (no) and (2) red? Well. I made a hair appointment anyway, for the next day (i.e., today) at lunchtime.
Later, we went out to dinner. The kids are all on vacation with He Who Must Not Be Named (their father), so we are relatively fancy-free this week. At dinner, we revisited both topics. I should say that, although my wife has not recently (like in the last year) expressed reservations about having another baby, a constant fear of mine is that she doesn’t really want the not-yet-existing baby. So actually, her indignation at me deciding I was taking next month off was kind of nice, in a weird way. And ultimately, after talking it through, I have reconsidered, and probably won’t take next month off after all. It’s just that it’s been so hard, and actually kind of isolating, this trying to get pregnant business. Also, am sick of peeing on things. I would like a month where I just don’t have to think about it. I don’t have to pee anywhere other than the toilet, I don’t have to count days past ovulation, I don’t have to go to the doctor, I don’t have to wonder if that feeling is implantation, because it’s just not. However. She promised to be very “checked-in” if we try during March, and also daily massages to help me relax. You would be a fool to pass up daily massages, I think, so I am in. Plus, it turns out that she is actually rather anxious for our little bundle, but has been avoiding saying this because she doesn’t want me to feel bad. Aww.
Then, we talked about the hair. She expressed serious concern over me dying my hair a color that has not been in style since 1996 (even though I pointed out actually already dyed my hair this color after it had been out of style for several years, circa 2002). On second thought, it was actually kind of a disaster the last time I dyed my hair red. I had to paste-bleach it all platinum blonde before I could dye it brown again, because the red just would not come out any other way. I decided maybe bangs were the best bet.
So this morning, I came into work, and cancelled the business trip that has been hanging over my head, which was actually for a training seminar that seemed really boring and hard and would require three overnights away from home. I also trekked off to the salon to get my hair trimmed, and get those bangs.
After I sat down in the chair, my stylist came over to me and said, “Hi beautiful. So, when are you going to get pregnant? Oh gosh, are you pregnant right now? You’re not pregnant right now, are you?”
WHAT THE HELL.
“No,” I told her, “I am not pregnant right now. And what do you think about bangs?”
So much for the distraction. My bangs are cute though.