I just returned after a crazy, fun, whirlwind extended weekend abroad with my family. I had to go to the States for work. I got there Thursday morning and landed back in Israel today, Tuesday. Every second of my trip was so quality. I went to a Yankee game with my sibs and drank watered-down beer (it was the first time I actually liked beer!). I made apple strudel with my grandmother whose favorite word is “goddamn”. (Actual conversation-Grandma: “Pass me that goddamn thing”         My brother: “This goddamn thing?”        Grandma: “Ya”) The point is: it was such an escape that I forgot to buy hpts! This is actually unfortunate as they cost an arm and a leg here. At least B is still there for business (we overlapped by a day) so he can pick some up.

My goal for this week while B is away is to fix up our apartment. I need control over something and if we’re not moving right away, I think putting some effort into organizing this place will give me some satisfaction.

In other news, I just found out a former workmate of mine was diagnosed with cancer. She got married at 40 or something like that, went through fertility treatments and now has a 1.5 year old cutie son. She decided she was ready for another round of treatments for a second child and oops, they found stage 4 ovarian cancer! She’s one of those strong, capable women who can do anything. Her husband doesn’t strike me as a great match for her, but who knows what’s really going on. In any case, you could see how thrilled she was to finally have a child.

My own feelings are so confused. Obviously, I’m devastated for her. I saw what ovarian cancer did to my mother-in-law. The chemo ravaged her so badly that she looked 20 years older than she was when she died. My last interaction with this workmate wasn’t a great one. She’s probably the only person in my extended circle of friends who can truly related to what I’m going through. I know she only wants the best for me but sometimes she goes a little far. I know she talks to mutual friends about me and the things she says makes me feel so looserish. I know she doesn’t mean it but I haven’t been able to speak to her for quite some time. Maybe it’s because I still don’t want to acknowledge that I really have fertility problems and can’t take it when people feel pity for me. I don’t know.

Secretly, I always feel that I don’t deserve to be happy. I thought I had broken that feeling when I got married and now part of me wonders what else is in store if I ever have a child.

I need to get over myself and stop thinking everything revolves around me. Much easier said than done. I hate that I have to escape my life everytime I want to return to the “normal” me.