Hey, I only want the same as anyone

My "ducky" category now has more uses (76) than my "in between" category (57). In between is the tag that I use for all of my infertility-related posts--they're all friends only and most of them are filtered to about a dozen people, so you can't see it in the sidebar if you're not logged in. I didn't want to post it publicly because I didn't want it to get awkward at work, originally, and then I wouldn't post anything anyway because I didn't want people to feel like they had to read it, so I created the filter. Anyway, the fact that I have posted more about Ducky-doodle (yes, I know, obnoxious, but that's what we call her half the time) is... well, it's kind of a big thing.

The reason, of course, that the category was named "in between" is because of a line from a Counting Crows song, Rain King.

I've been here before and I deserve a little more--
I belong in the service of the Queen
I belong anywhere but in between

I had a good feeling about the cycle that worked based partially on this song. I was driving home from the clinic near the end of the cycle when this song came on just after At Last, by Etta James, which both M and I love, but which had been semi-ruined for me by an infertility blogger who posted it as a birth announcement. It became linked to infertility, and then I was prone to crying whenever it came on. So, my random mp3 player played At Last, and then Rain King (anywhere but in between) and I thought.. wouldn't it be neat if this worked and then I could remember this drive back through Versailles, with the green grass and rolling hills and gazillion dollar horses--this is Kentucky, remember?--and trees and fences and the songs that made me think that maybe it could work.

And it did.

It did!

And now, though I still enjoy the song and it does still make me think of the baby, I have become more than a little enamored of another Counting Crows song for just one line. I know that I am unreasonably attached to one band and that's a little odd, but one of the reasons I enjoy it so much is that the same song I have listened to for ten years can suddenly make me cry just because it suddenly means something different to me than it did then. I have a history with these songs, all of them. A Long December, this time.

I can't remember all the times I've tried to tell myself to hold on to these moments as they pass

That's exactly how I feel about pregnancy. It's not that I feel guilt about complaining. I know that there have been things about my pregnancy that don't qualify as "easy"--cracking a rib, for one. I don't feel like I can't complain. M can attest to that! I just feel like despite all the complaints, everything is good. Everything is so good that it just doesn't feel like the discomforts are all that horrible. What does a cracked rib have to compare with the feeling one gets while walking around thinking of the baby and then bursting into spontaneous giggles? I am happy. I am so happy that I spend a good amount of time just wishing that time would stop, so I could savor this longer. Not only is there a baby, a real one! on the way, it has been such a relief to not worry about infertility anymore. So far, there have been no issues of real concern, and I am finally at a point where I know that she would most likely be fine if she were born. There are plenty of things that might go wrong, but at this point, everything is still looking good. It's just so hard to worry about the small discomforts when I compare it to our alternative--being here, but still in between.

Things are pretty good these days. Sometimes the hormones even make me nice and squooshy instead of bitchy. Let's all appreciate it while it lasts, shall we?