Progesterone, Poison and Picasso

Perhaps it’s my present homicidal state, but I’ve just purchased more things to kill a mouse than was probably necessary. I don’t just want the mouse to die; I want him to think about what he’s done.

I bought four glue traps, three mouse traps and eight packets of poison. I realize this sounds incredibly cruel but A) I have to at least try to get this mouse out of my home before my mother-in-law impending visit and B) Going through the IVF process and not getting pregnant is also cruel… so someone has to pay. Why not Mickey?

As I scattered the various forms of rodent destruction around my apartment, I thought about my mother-in-law’s impending seven day visit. Because I’m currently a bitter, hormonal and deeply sardonic person, I thought to myself, “What kind of trap would you set if you wanted to kill your mother-in-law? A Talbots Gift Card?”

But seriously, I don’t want to kill my mother-in-law. It’s not her or even her visit that’s upsetting me. It’s more the timing of her visit and that it’s going to last longer than my period typically does.

I went for my second blood test today (or “The Hail Mary Beta” as I like to call it) and both my doctor and his nurse told me that I looked like I was completely fried. That may be because I am. I also made no effort to look even remotely presentable. I threw my hair into a sloppy ponytail, put on a shirt I bought in Disney World (ironic given my war against mice), my crappy jeans, no make-up, and my beat up sneakers. I was the very essence of a “before” picture. Trouble is, there is no “after” picture planned.

My doctor said that although the chances were slim, he has seen people have one negative beta test and then get a positive. I hate that we’re even doing this as I feel like they are just toying with my emotions. It’s like that boyfriend in High School who told you that he “wanted to take a break” and like an idiot, you believe him. You think to yourself, “Ok, we’re not breaking up! I’ll give him two weeks and we’ll be back together!” Of course, while you’re biding your time, he’s already hooked up with your best friend. Please tell me I’m not the only this has happened to? Is this thing on?

So, tomorrow, I get to relieve yesterday’s event of calling the doctor’s office and being told, AGAIN, that the test is negative. Of all the moments I want to repeat, this is not one of them. My honeymoon? Yes. That one time I looked good in a bathing suit? Definitely. Being informed that I just wasted thousands of dollars on an unsuccessful IVF? Not so much.

As I left the doctor’s office, I walked past The Metropolitan Museum of Art. I’ve walked by there a lot recently and every time, I noticed that they have a Picasso exhibit. On an impulse, I decided to just go to the damn museum and check it out. I can’t think of anything more appropriate then looking at Picasso’s Blue Period when I’m in one myself.

The exhibit was very worthwhile. There were different rooms such as “The Rose Period”, “Cubism” and the “Linoleum Cuts” room. As I dragged my unfashionable fried self from room to room, one painting caught my eye, “Head of a Woman”. I looked at it and it was exactly how I felt at that moment. It was like looking in a mirror. Well, if I had two different mouths and uneven eyes.

It may seem strange that this would make me feel better, but it did. The painting expressed an emotion deep inside me. It made me feel less alone. I felt validated. I felt confirmation that many others know the pain I currently feel and can capture it.

I also still felt the need to go home and kill that mouse.

In times like these, we must focus on the positive – I’m alive, I don’t have a terminal illness, I live in a city where I can see amazing art on a whim, I have a loving family, an adorable, affectionate, funny husband and truly wonderful friends. I also have the support of all of you, which means a lot. But I admit it, despite these blessings, I’m pretty f*cking pissed and upset right now. And for that reason alone, the mouse must die. Vengeance will be mine.