Hard decisions aka brain dump

There's a lot going on right now, and I can't really talk about most of it.

Operation Ten Percent is starting this week. I spent last night making soups to freeze, and plotting out my exercise schedule. I want to be as healthy as possible come January. Whether we will be getting ready for IVF or planning the eventual trip to Europe as a two-some is still up in the air, which is kind of...I don't know. I feel like I am waiting for the axe to fall. I have been considering other options in the meantime, and they haven't even been discussed with The Man yet.

Mom called the other night, and in the course of conversation, asked "When do you need to know by?" and I said, "Well, the appointment with the doctor is on November 9th," and she said, "OK! So, November."

It's gonna be a long wait.

In the meantime, I spent the weekend in Carmel with my bestest friend, S.S. We both were sort of semi-hysterical the entire time...she's trying to figure out if her current boyfriend of three months (who has suddenly been transferred to the East Coast for work) loves her enough to pursue a long distance relationship. Her analysis of the situation fluctuated a lot based on how deep into PMS she was, or how much wine she had.

Meanwhile, I was wrangling with...well, everything we are dealing with. We decided the best way to handle it was eat ridiculous foodstuffs, sip champagne, knit, and watch Joy Luck Club with the Kleenex handy so we could cry it out. At several points, S.S. and I looked at each other with tears on our faces, and the sheer ridiculousness of it all sent us both into hysterical laughter.

Yeah, that is why she's my best friend.

Neither of us wanted to leave, but I had a Sunday night meeting for work and she was leaving for Arizona early in the AM on Monday.

I felt so wonderful and refreshed when I got home.

S.S. and I talked about a lot of things, and she mentioned that she doesn't want to stay in Fresno for much longer. Granted, at the time she was considering moving back East if the relationship works out.

Some background info:
The Man has been offered a job. He has not accepted yet. We would have to move (him immediately, me eventually) to San Francisco. There are a ton of positives and negatives, and I am not sure how I feel about the idea. The cost of living there is astronomical. I am worried that he wouldn't like the job, and is only considering it because of how much he hates his current situation.

A huge part of the reason I didn't want to go is that I love my job here. I love being homeowners, and that is something that we would have to give up, unless we rent the place out.

My parents are here. I grew up here. But when my best friend talked about leaving, I realized that the biggest reason I didn't want to leave was simply that my friends are here.

Anyway, we were in the car, and S.S. was talking about leaving town, and I had a horrible epiphany. if she didn't stay, I really had no reason to stay, either. The most persuasive reason to stay would be for my parents. And in this weird moment of realization, I suddenly "got it."

My parents love me for being their kid, but I am never going to measure up to what they want. They want my sister, the lawyer, or my brother, who is some kind of real-estate wonderkind and has a wife who looks like Mandy Moore.

I have always been the fixer-upper. The underachiever. The one who had problems with her skin and needed to lose five pounds. I was smart, but didn't apply myself in school. I married a great guy, who didn't happen to be wealthy, and we struggle financially and they have to help us out when it comes to all the expensive IF stuff. I never did things the way they wanted. I frustrate the hell out of them, Dad especially. And while they do love me fiercely and worry about me constantly, and seem to have finally accepted who I am, I have not provided them with any grandchildren to spoil. I am not the one who they brag about to their friends.

Why the hell should I stay? And more importantly, I am kicking myself every day that I am left hanging because I have accepted their offer to help me out. I feel like there are going to be strings attached, like there are wth everything else.

I feel like I am poised on the edge of something. It could be great, or it could be horrible. And everyone is screaming at me to jump, and I am just left standing, frozen with terror and rage and confusion.

Edited to add

Well, The Man and I talked, and we are jumping. He's accepting this job. It's not actually immediate, which is good news...But there will be a 14 month period where he gets his feet wet, so we will have time to adjust, and I will be able to downsize and get used to the idea.