Rejection and the 2ww

I'm in a funk. A the-kid-is-asleep-and-I-need-to-think-about-life funk. I got a rejection letter for the poetry yesterday. And while no single rejection letter ever puts me in a funk, the cumulative effect of a series of rejection letters does. (Haven't gotten an acceptance yet this fall.) Couple the rejection with the end of the 2ww--I was stupid enough to take a HPT today (10dpo)--and I'm feeling like I'm never going to get anything I want.

I know, I know. Boo hoo, baby. I have a great life. I have a tenure track job I've made peace with. I have a great kid, a loving family, supportive friends. I'm healthy. I'm mostly professionally successful. But. But. But.

The things that I most want right now--a book contract, another child--seem far out of reach. And they are both things that are largely out of my control. I've done my part. I've written, revised, and sent out my manuscripts. I've done everything in my power to make getting pregnant work. And now I wait. For the rejection. For the failure. For starting it all over again next month.

So it doesn't matter that I was sent an official note about joining a campus program that I very much want to be allied with. Doesn't matter that my spring course proposal was accepted without request for revision. That my poetry reading went pretty darn well. That I'm *finally* done writing letters of recommendation (at least for students on the market--need to start the ones for those applying to grad programs shortly). That my kid and I had a really great time last night trick-or-treating and today visiting with friends.

Because all I can see is the single line on the pregnancy test, and the "sorry" scrawled on the form letter. I don't know how much stamina I have to keep trying. And failing.