I have an issue, and despite my fair amount of anonymity on this blog, I still don't feel comfortable putting the details about down here. I realize that it is not really fair to withhold the details and then ask for support, but well, I don't know. All I do know is that I feel like I'm being taking advantage of (not so much with my personal life, this is more about hospitals and insurance companies) and my fear of getting an answer that I don't want keeps me stalling when I should just be kicking ass and taking names.
This post should be titled Fear.
Fear is showing up in a bunch of places lately. It showed up in my yard, where ticks seems to be aggressive and plentiful this year and while I just want to keep N safe in a bubble, it is not fair to keep him inside when I want him to be a free little explorer. Picking up leaves and sticks and rocks and banging them together. Chasing bubbles and butterflies. But it is my job to keep him safe. At least now he is happy to strip down and get in the tub immediately after playing in the yard, while I am using that opportunity to check every inch of him for ticks, all the while feeling itchy and buggy myself for the rest of the day. Feeling a little itchy and buggy right now just writing about it.
He is napping now and my fear about ticks subsides and is replaced by butterflies in my stomach this time. I need to take advantage of his nap time to make some phone calls I am dreading for the insurance issue. It would be very easy for me to stall just long enough that he wakes up and my opportunity to make uninterrupted phones calls is over. It would be simple for today to get away from me, for 6 o'clock to get here and for my anxiety to slip away into dinner prep and knowing that it is the weekend and I can't work on the problem even if I wanted to. I look at the clock and it is 10:30am. I have plenty of time, but I know full well how quickly 10:30 turns to 2:30 and then to 6 and then to Saturday morning cartoons and pancakes.
If I could just get this one thing taken care of, then life would be perfect. When is the last time you felt that way? In my 36 years, I have at least figured out that if I get that one thing taken care of, it will be replaced by another thing, and another and soon enough I'm stalling about something else and maybe longing for problem as "simple" as the one I am dealing with now.
Writing this down has made me realize that during the time that we struggled with infertility, I would have given my left arm to just have to deal with a few phone calls and unhelpful customer service. But, sometimes I feel like if I have to go through the automated system one more time....or explain my situation for the hundredth time...or hold while someone reads my file...Please. Just one human being to another. One rational person who doesn't just read a script. Someone who can take the time and just fix the error. Please. Are you out there????????????? November will be one year that I have been dealing with this. This is not an anniversary that I want to celebrate.
What else am I afraid of lately? I'm afraid of the passing of time. I have a toddler. He is a tornado that runs through my house and then takes a nap. Right now there is a pot and a strainer on the floor next to my front door. There are plastic measuring cups in the bathroom and a box of tampons is spilled in my bedroom. Right now, they stay. I'll pick them up and I'm sure I'll pick them up again later and probably tomorrow. I don't mind. I used to have bottles drying on a rack on the kitchen counter. Those bottles are put away now. I don't miss cleaning them, but I miss what they meant. They meant a tiny baby was soundly sleeping with a full belly. Now the mess means I have an exhausted toddler sleeping in a crib. I don't know what the next mess will be, but for now this tornado reminds me of how far we have come. It brings comfort. It means love.
It makes me mad at the insurance company. The time wasted fighting this battle. The time they are keeping me from what I really want to do. Seven months of this nagging the back of my mind. Making me nauseous when I open the mailbox, hopeful when I answer the phone and banging my head every time I retell our story.
I'm tired of banging my head. I'm tired of the fear. The nagging fear and the stalling.
I'm going to go and kick some ass.
