Your feelings of jealousy are normal and warranted.

You deny your feelings because it is easy then facing the consequences of them.

The consequences are-- you wanted to move in with this guy believing that the relationship was progressing and he loved you even if he didn't say it out loud.

But down deep, you know if he can't say that he loves you but encourages moving in together, he's doing it for convenience--not love. He's doing it for shared expenses, less effort involved to see you and more regular access to sex with you. He likes you, your companionship, you availability, and the sex, but he doesn't love you.

This business about a week stay with the myspace chick? Totally doesn't love you. doesn't respect your feelings. You told him how you felt and he belittled you. Real compassion, there.

He hasn't committed to you emotionally and is still playing the field. He is checking out his prospects.

You need to cut your losses. The hardest part of letting go will be admitting to yourself, you knew all along he wasn't in love with you, but you went along with it having a certain degree of denial so that you could pretend that he did.

Get out with your dignity intact. There are better men out there for you, but first you have to learn what your limits are so-- you can abide by them next time.

There are really good men out there who won't hurt you this way. Hold out for what you really want.

I surf the news to avoid my to-do list. It is awful. I am doing it right now.

This is inspires me to get back on task.

Also, LW-- your other issue is the fact that you threw off your career for your kids and they don't appreciate it. How could they? As you say, they have known nothing different. They've never had a chance to miss you.

Write about that, perhaps. There seems to be a good seed of a story there. And think about a part-time job that will eat a little bit more of your free time and make your writing time that much more precious-- and give some economic value to your time as well. Your kids will miss you a little bit and see you in a more flattering light.

There doesn't have to be this extreme choice between workaholic vs. stay at home mom. There can be a laid-back full time job that you don't bring home with you, or a part time job that gets you out of the house while the kids are at school anyhow.

Good luck with the writing. Get yourself a laptop with no Internet access that you use solely for word processing. You can do it.

I don't know if you are depressed or not, or if pre-menopausal hormomal fluctuations are making you dwell on sad feelings.

Have the physical checked out first.

In the meantime, address the spiritual and emotional parts of yourself.

Why do we cry at the birth of a baby, a healthy baby that is an occasion of happiness? Because we know this very moment of arrival is momentous and fleeting. There will only be one first breath-- and so we simultaneously feel joy and bittersweet grief that the first breath does not last forever.

But why would we want that baby to stop at one breath and be frozen in time?

Nothing remains constant and everything changes.

Buddhism does a lovely job of explaining this gently.

If you've never read Thich Nhat Hahn, may I suggest his title "No Death, No Fear."

I think it may ease your grief a little bit.

Also, it will help you control your thoughts. Nothing is final. Your daughter may, like Bristol Palin, one day find herself unexpectedly pregnant. I am sure she is a good girl but even good people do unpredictable things.

So you may find yourself mothering a small baby again unexpectedly-- and in the middle of a sleepless night, weary from exhaustion, knowing you must wake up in two hours to go to work-- you might be changing that squiming baby's diaper and it may spray pee on you or twist in a way that you wind up with a handful of poop on your naked hand. And sleepless and delirious, you may in that moment grieve your loss of freedom and forget all about how you once grieved your loss of fertility, while at the same time deeply loving that baby and your daughter and all of the perplexing experiences of life itself.

The most important thing you can do to stop grieving is learn to live and appreciate the good things in the present moment. When you were struggling and striving, you were happier because you were focused on the present moment and what was required for survival.

Now, with some small amount of leisure, you are time traveling-- you are imagining a hopeless future-- defined by the parameters of past regrets. Buddhism has some guidance on how to fondly recall the past with detachment, and how to accept that the future is unknowable and will contain some good things and some bad things.

Right now, focus on what is. Cry it out and then say, what comes next? There is some good and some bad. But you are alive, and each moment is a new first breath, a world full of possibility and fabulous uncertainty.