Meme and HIMYM

One week since my last post. Kinda long since I've been blogging so much but in my defense I've had a lot going on. Like anyone reads this.

I have tonsillitis. Yuck.

Until yesterday I have been walking on air. I took the SAT Saturday, and I'm pretty sure I scored well. Anything 2100 and above means I don't ever have to take it again. Considering in 7th grade, exactly four years ago, I got a 1610, I can't imagine not doing extremely better.

Later on Saturday, I spent time with my grandmother, who insists on being called Grammy, but when I was little I couldn't say Grammy and morphed it into Meme. I helped her decorate her house for Christmas (she's nearing 82) and she shared stories about her favorite ornaments and things like that. It was very heartwarming since I don't see her often, and she's practically me in roughly 66 years from now. I identify with her so much it's scary. We like the same things. She doesn't judge. She's incredibly open-minded. She loves to bake. She values family above anything else. She's my absolute favorite family member of both sides. I know one day she'll die, and with her will disappear stories and traditions and ways of life, but it's comforting to know that when she goes I'll inherit, or probably will anyway, her ornaments and special items that I always loved. However, I refuse to allow her to die until I have my first child, or at least until I'm married. It kinda sucks, considering her side of the family doesn't get sick and you know about when they'll die; they just go. It'll be a shock I'll be unprepared for, but at least I'll have had weekends and baking escapades and all sorts of advice.

HIMYM is an acronym for my favorite show How I Met Your Mother. Look it up. On the most recent episode, Robin thought she was pregnant with Barney's baby, turned out she wasn't, but when she returned to the doctor she got a diagnosis of never being able to have children. It struck home.

I don't know what I'd do if I found that out about myself. Having a family is something I've wanted for as long as I can remember. And with my mom's potentially genetic issue that could inhibit my ability to conceive or last through full term, I'm terrified it's a possibility. I want to force her into having me tested for the gene for whatever is wrong, I've forgotten the name of it, because I don't want to wait until it actually matters to know about it. What if I'm 26, 27 and ready to have kids to find out I can't because of this thing and the treatment will render me unable to have a child until a year or more later? What if that child because of advanced maternal age due to extensive treatment ends up with some issue that could have been prevented with the use of a younger egg?

A lot of things wrong with what I just said. It's crazy, it's questionable, it's definitely opinionated, and it's out of character for someone my age. But that's where my mind is. I don't get caught up in "normal" drama. I don't obsess myself with obvious short-term relationships for the sake of having someone. I don't care about high school period, in case anyone hasn't figured that out yet. The only boy I obsessed over was a year ago because he left me and he had me convinced that he was The One. And now I have TJ, who I am utterly in love with but reluctant to believe is The One because I don't want to experience that kind of heartbreak ever again in my existence.

I am trapped in this world of pettiness and immaturity, but unfortunately only time will break me out.

Love,
Caitlyn