A Lesson On Trips To The Pool

I wish I could figure out how to be happy and truly be satisfied with what I have right here and now.

We have an awesome neighborhood pool.  I will never again live in a development that doesn't have a pool because I love having a pool around so much.  The area is growing quickly and of course this means new, young families hanging out at the pool.  The pool opened last weekend, but it was rainy, so we were really psyched to hit it up this weekend.  Apparently, so was everyone else.

When we got there, we could not find a place to lounge.  All the lounge chairs were taken, many with just a folded towel sitting on them (Which pisses me off!  If you are planning to spend the whole time in the pool, please don't reserve 10 spots for yourself and all of your pals.).  We finally found a set of chairs by a table and figured we'd hang out there until we saw a couple of lounge chairs open up.  I hate sitting in regular chairs when I'm in a swim suit.  Especially when I'm still trying to get my post IVF pounds off.  You ladies know the deal.  A 45 degree angle is crucial.

I was looking down at my ginormous, white thighs and sat back to try and relax.  As I was getting comfortable, I noticed the sounds around me.  Giggling, nervous laughter, squeals, some tears.  I opened my eyes and right in front of me were a plethora of babies.  Little one's toes being dipped into the pool for the first time, eyes wide with worry.  Babies being tossed into the air by their daddies, with their little hats flopping around while their moms stood nearby ready to catch them in case dad missed.  Toddlers seated on mom's lap, squealing their way down the big slide.  Big sisters helping little brothers wade into the shallow end while they tiptoed tentatively under the bucket dump station.

I completely lost it.  I started to ugly cry right there at the pool.

We gathered our belongings as quickly as possible and started the trek home.  We got as far as the sidewalk outside the gate when I couldn't hold it back anymore.  J held me and I bawled and snotted all over his shirt.  I just said, "I'm sorry.  I couldn't do it.  All of those babies.  I'm sorry," over and over.  I felt swallowed by pain.  I knew people were staring, but I really didn't care.  I was mad at them.  Mad because their everyday state of being was happy.  Jealous that they didn't have to fight for their happiness.  I wanted them to be uncomfortable.  I wanted my pain to rub off on them in hopes that they would appreciate the many blessings they had.  It was rational, but it was what swept over me in a torrent.

On our walk home, I thought about my many blessings.  I thought about how much I prayed for J and how badly I wanted a good man in my life.  So much of my life has been spent wanting what I don't have.  An education, a job, a happy family, a husband.  I have most of those things now.  Why can't I be grateful for that?  I think J said it best.  We're still going through this.  We're still fighting and we aren't ready to stop.  So for today, I don't have to be okay with it.  I can still fight.  I can still be sad.

And next time we will get to the pool EARLY so we can have a guaranteed spot near the deep end.