When I wasn't at Dr. G's office getting catheterized I was at home trying to Martha Stewart myself into motherhood. At some point right before Thanksgiving I decided to do a "Crafty Christmas" and make all our gifts from scratch. We have a pretty big extended family so that is no small feat. A friend of mine from work was similarly inclined and so we had a good time talking about knitting and sewing machines and so on. At some point, what started out as a few pairs of mittens and table runners turned into an absolute obsession complete with spreadsheets and plans to hand make everything right down to the gift wrap. I was going to be so organized that the day before we left town I would have everything wrapped and packed and would spend the day soaking in the tub and painting my toenails. Part of me knew that I was trying to prove to the universe what a good, resourceful, and organized mother I could be. However, since I truly like making things I figured it was a good distraction from the fact that I may never be able to eat another grapefruit for as long as I live.
Here is what actually happened the day before we left town. Instead of soaking in the tub and admiring my beautifully wrapped presents and neatly packed suitcases, I found myself in a messy house with thread and fabric scraps all over the floor, several knitted mittens with no mates, foul smelling homemade bath salts, a pile of dirty laundry, and empty suitcases. DH was working at home for the day thanks to a well-timed blizzard so he got to bear the brunt of my insanity. In a fit of frantic vacuuming I blew a fuse, assumed the vacuum broke, and promptly threw a fit. I started flipping out about the mess and listing all the things that needed finishing and then topped it off by screaming "and...and...AND-THERE-IS-AN-ICE-CREAM-MAKER-ON-MY-COFFEE-TABLE!!!" The ice cream maker was a gift from my mother that was on the coffee table until I could find a place for it in the kitchen. At this point DH asked, "Did you forget your medicine today?" And then I went in the bathroom and hyperventilated until DH came in and found me sobbing, "I can make mittens but I can't make a baby."
Bargaining sneaks up on you when you least expect it.
After I got all the crazies out I was able to settle down and have a pretty nice Christmas. I knit for the entire 13 hour drive to DH's parents' house so I was able to finish almost everything. What I didn't finish we substituted for with store bought gifts (gasp!). Since I had finally accepted that the Universe doesn't hand out pregnancies based on crafting ability I was OK with that.