The beginning of everything else

Flash Forward - Reflection in the Mirror

The house is empty when I get home, as it has been every night this week. It feels like it has been forever since we sat down to have a meal together and even longer since we really had any quality time. 

Walking into the kitchen, I set my bag and coat on a stool, then prepare some food for the pups as they run around and play with each other in the yard. They have started to get more coordinated and boisterous, and I know Noah can't wait to start taking them out on his early morning runs. Not that there have been many of those recently given the number of hours that he is putting into work, which is also the reason I have hardly seen him for weeks, because he spends every waking moment at the office.

I flick through the mail as I sit at the counter eating a Caesar Salad, then spend some time giving some attention to the boys. They go to doggie daycare every day that we are at work, so we make sure that they are well looked after, and they spend their time playing with their little doggie friends. But when they get home we both want to make sure that they know that they'll get endless love from us. 

Once they are well worn out and the house is locked up I head upstairs and jump into the shower, it has been a long taxing day and I'm physically and emotionally exhausted, so a good night's sleep would probably do wonders. The likelihood of getting that sleep is not very high, it hasn't happened for days, and whilst I know that it is of paramount importance that I break this bad sleep cycle I can't help it when I know the cause is my own brain.

The rational part of my mind is telling me that nothing is wrong, Noah is just incredibly busy with work, but that self-destructive, overanalytical, toxic bunch of neurons is what is keeping me up all night. The case that Noah is working on is a big one for the firm, and a huge opportunity given how involved the senior partner is letting him be. It's a testament to all of the hard work that he has been putting in which means he was selected above all of his peers that started at the same time as him. It does however mean that he's having to put in the time, specifically giving up his evenings and weekends. He wakes up and leaves the house sometimes before I am even up and I'm often asleep before he returns. 

I know this won't last, I know this is a big deal for him and I'd never ask or expect him to do anything else, it's just terrible timing considering everything else we have going on, reminders of which are all over the house taunting me at every turn.

Just as we had agreed we had finished last year with a bang, an amazing Christmas, and a spectacular New Year, then as New Year's day had dawned I'd thrown away my birth control. At first, we had been really relaxed and just carried on as normal making love as we always had, figuring that at some point it would result in a baby, but as the months ticked by and there was no pregnancy in sight we had started to take ovulation tests and draw up schedules.

Now we are 8 months in and things are starting to take a toll. I think sex is now more of a task for him to complete than a show of our love and passion. That's not to say that anyone is to blame or that anyone is at fault, it's just hard to be romantic when it's determined in advance by a particular date and time. Then add to this the fact that Noah is so tired, and the fact that I'm knee-deep in panic that something is wrong, then sprinkle in that I miss him terribly, and you have the recipe for my spiraling mind.

After showering and moisturizing I stare into the mirror and see the evidence that my body is betraying me in the background of its reflection. I had thought when we had started this that we were young, fit, and healthy and so this wouldn't take much time, now it's starting to distress me that it is taking so long - last month I had cried in the grocery store tampon aisle. I get ready for bed into a pair of cotton pajamas and get under the sheets and think how they are another sign of our changed situation. These comfy pajamas hadn't been something I'd worn for the first year and a half of our reunion, but now that I knew I'd be asleep before he managed to get home, there was no point in wearing anything sexier.