One year of trying, two miscarriages, two surgeries, three months of waiting and one month of deep anticipation makes me so tired. It is also the night after my husband tells me on cycle day 14 that he wants to wait till next month. We talked about this. We planned on this. Why did he have to wait to tell me till now? Why can't he talk to me about everything? The lengths to which he will go to protect me is hurting me instead. I feel like I got my heart broken all over again.
I want to throw in the towel. On ttc, on work, on home. I wanna run. I am tired of feeling ashamed for who this has made me. I just want to be someone else. I did not sign up for this shit. I did not volunteer to have a million little holes punched into the most important relationship in my life.
I guess I could use some advise. There is not a bone in my body that doesn't know the strength of my relationship with J. But I feel like something happened. I think I am starting to, unknowingly, push him away like I have everyone else. I would give up the chance to ever have children if it would prevent me from loosing him.
Let me just say that this is far from a fatal flaw. But how do I get him to talk to me? He rarely "shares"? How do I get him to understand how profoundly this effects me every day with out him thinking I am totally nuts? I have never felt this way about us. I have never felt a millimeter of distance between us. But today there is the slightest of gaps - separating him from me.
Showing posts with label alienation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alienation. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Is this the same as my last post?
Everything is still. I am just waiting. Waiting, hoping, thinking. I have been feeling much recovered over the last few weeks-- which I attribute to seeing a therapist. Not so much because the therapy has helped, but as it is in life, once you finally step forward to grasp that thing you have been needing, you no longer really need it so much.
I have been happily sunk into my work life. I have been reading again, thinking about some projects to start, even offering to run a training for a local organization that I used to spend a lot of time volunteering for. I check the blogs and the boards on a daily basis, and still follow everything- but no longer do I do it obsessively. I think all of this points to me being a little more healthy than I was even a few weeks ago.
But there is still one strange thing that is nagging me. I STILL do not want to see our best friends who are pregnant. She got pregnant right after I lost the second. I have not seen her since September, I think. Her body must be bursting at the seams by now. But I can not see her. I am too scared. Scared of how I might react. Scared that they both think I am a complete ass for having avoided them for so long. I feel ashamed of my behavior. But I feel safe and protected here, hold up in my own space. I can edit out what I know I can not handle.
The other part is that I do not know how to begin again. If I did feel ready to see them, what would I say? What would I do? "Hey, sorry for missing out on one of the most monumental events in your entire life, uhh, and by the way, can you refrain too much from talking about the arrival of your bundle of joy? I'm ready to see you but not quite sure I can handle the constant baby talk yet..." Seriously? What kind of a friend am I? My only hope is that the people who really know me, know I am not so shallow as to do this on purpose. If I could do a better job, I would. But so far, I can't.
J. wonders if finally getting pregnant and staying pregnant will solve this dilemma. But I don't think so. I might feel better about physically seeing them, but not emotionally. I was not there to support them through their pregnancies, so why should I ask them to be here for me? I fantasize about getting pregnant and not telling anyone for as long as I possibly can. I don't want anyone to know. Maybe it is because I will always be fearful f loss. Maybe it is because I will have to begin to mend these relationships. Or say goodbye to them forever. I can not remember a time when I had so few people in my life- and was fine with it.
Although I do hope to get pregnant soon, it is not the best timing. Being more saturated in my work has made me want to hold off a bit. If I were to get a full-time gig this year, having a baby would put a very serious question-mark in my file. I am really enjoying teaching right now, especially working with upperclassmen again. I don't want to loose sight of that. And I want to be able to salvage a career out of my train-wreck of a reproductive life after all this is said and done.
Another shout out to Pamela Jeanne at Coming2Terms for her post this week. She has the capability to articulate so much of what I am feeling in a way that is dense and true and fair. I would love to cut and paste half of her blog to my own and sign my name to the bottom... Even better, I'll encourage you to go over there and take a gander.
I have been happily sunk into my work life. I have been reading again, thinking about some projects to start, even offering to run a training for a local organization that I used to spend a lot of time volunteering for. I check the blogs and the boards on a daily basis, and still follow everything- but no longer do I do it obsessively. I think all of this points to me being a little more healthy than I was even a few weeks ago.
But there is still one strange thing that is nagging me. I STILL do not want to see our best friends who are pregnant. She got pregnant right after I lost the second. I have not seen her since September, I think. Her body must be bursting at the seams by now. But I can not see her. I am too scared. Scared of how I might react. Scared that they both think I am a complete ass for having avoided them for so long. I feel ashamed of my behavior. But I feel safe and protected here, hold up in my own space. I can edit out what I know I can not handle.
The other part is that I do not know how to begin again. If I did feel ready to see them, what would I say? What would I do? "Hey, sorry for missing out on one of the most monumental events in your entire life, uhh, and by the way, can you refrain too much from talking about the arrival of your bundle of joy? I'm ready to see you but not quite sure I can handle the constant baby talk yet..." Seriously? What kind of a friend am I? My only hope is that the people who really know me, know I am not so shallow as to do this on purpose. If I could do a better job, I would. But so far, I can't.
J. wonders if finally getting pregnant and staying pregnant will solve this dilemma. But I don't think so. I might feel better about physically seeing them, but not emotionally. I was not there to support them through their pregnancies, so why should I ask them to be here for me? I fantasize about getting pregnant and not telling anyone for as long as I possibly can. I don't want anyone to know. Maybe it is because I will always be fearful f loss. Maybe it is because I will have to begin to mend these relationships. Or say goodbye to them forever. I can not remember a time when I had so few people in my life- and was fine with it.
Although I do hope to get pregnant soon, it is not the best timing. Being more saturated in my work has made me want to hold off a bit. If I were to get a full-time gig this year, having a baby would put a very serious question-mark in my file. I am really enjoying teaching right now, especially working with upperclassmen again. I don't want to loose sight of that. And I want to be able to salvage a career out of my train-wreck of a reproductive life after all this is said and done.
Another shout out to Pamela Jeanne at Coming2Terms for her post this week. She has the capability to articulate so much of what I am feeling in a way that is dense and true and fair. I would love to cut and paste half of her blog to my own and sign my name to the bottom... Even better, I'll encourage you to go over there and take a gander.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Post Xmas Round-up
*The aforementioned reunion was a minor disaster. I stayed home with an actual headache. J. stumbled in early, at midnight, and drunk as a skunk. The "buffet" never materialized but 2 Manhattans and 3 Jamesons did. He barfed all night and through the next day. Poor thing.
____________________
Post Xmas Round-up
Perhaps J. and I have become more grumpy, but it seems like each year christmas gets more and more sad and less and less fun. Now, for all you xmas crazies out there - calm down. I like to decorate my tree, hang my stockings and bake cookies. But the day and the eve are little more than torturous shuffles from one families dinner to the next. It is implied by both families that our absence would create a considerable tear in the familial fabric, but when we are actually there we feel lost and bored-- as though our presence is not needed at all. I think, in part, it is because we do not have children.
THE EVE
So we went to the in-laws on the Eve. We had a quiet day, a quite meal, a sedate round of present opening and a quiet game of cards. His family is so still some times I think I should take all of their pulses. There is the obligatory go around the dinner table to tell what we are thankful for. I am very, very, very nervous about these moments of sharing, so I just come up with something very superficial. If I really talked about my year, it would end with me breaking into tears. Instead, J.'s mother graciously mentioned our year of hardships, and herself, almost started to cry. I am more impressed by my MIL ever year. Even with our differences, she is so sensitive to me and J. I wish I had more to add to that - but that just about sums it up. We did open our own gifts from one another when we got home that night, and that was really fun. J. bought me a really cool necklace that I was eying up. I can't believe he remembered.
THE DAY
Christmas morning we got up early to head to my folks house. The festivities there are typically a veritable clusterf*ck - everything from screaming children, drunk uncles, huge rack of prime rib, fighting sisters and those who always hold up present opening by arriving at least an hour late. But this year, it was so different. Two years ago my dad had a blowout with his oldest sister. Their absence, and the absence of their children and grandchildren cut the attendance from near thirty, to about fifteen. So scale is the first big difference.
Then there is my oldest sister. Her second marriage, to the second a-hole she could find, ended a year ago. But not until after she had produced 3 pretty awesome little rug-rats. She and her brood moved in to my parents home and my sister, as per her habits, picked up with the next douche she could find - one of the dudes that had helped build my parents addition on their house. The guy is ok - but he is young, immature, not real interested in helping to raise my sisters kids, and smokes pot. {I smoked plenty o' reefer as a youngin-- and don't necessarily object to it. But my sister is 36 yo, a school teacher, and has three needy children. She also tends to pick up the habits of her lovers, for fun-- she likes to "become" them. This is not a habit I would like to see her get involved with in this point in her life. Hence, my frowning on it.}
My sisters [omni]presence in my mothers home makes me feel like a visitor in the very same house I grew up in-- a very strange sensation. For YEARS, I was the one who helped do all the x-mas cooking, I was the one who helped my mother slave over the pies and the shrimp and the cheese log. But the house is now partly my sisters house. And she has assumed the chores that I used to love to do with my mom. Additionally, my mother rarely calls for my help anymore-- I think because she perceives that I already have "enough" on my plate. But I want to help. Baking a pie with my mother would be the most normal thing I could possibly do.
So we arrive about 10 a.m.
Bad news. Both of my parents are in bed with a NASTY stomach virus that my sisters youngest dragged home from daycare. It has been clear-cutting through the whole family for a week and finally reached both mom and dad - simultaneously at about 4 am Christmas morning. So the parental buffer is gone. There is no one there to mediate all of our snide sibling behavior. It was awkward and weird and made me realize that with the exception of my nieces and nephews, in my parents absence, there would be very little reason for any of us to ever see each other again. It was a very sad christmas realization.
After my brothers family arrived at their usual 'one hour late' time, we opened presents. My sister passed out the gifts. The kids went wild. I got some nice new bras, that actually fit, and a crock pot that is fit for a family of 6, not 2. My sisters boyfriend gifted the kids with some inappropriately large gifts - like the HUGE air hockey table that will be a problem using in my parents already crowded house. It made me feel really icky and sad-- mostly because they have been so on again off again. Last time I saw my sister, about a month ago, they were off and she had joined match dot com. It is confusing for me to keep track of their status, I can not imagine how confusing it is for her children. Do big gifts mean big love? I just want her kids to have stability-- and she seems so incapable of delivering that.
My sister passed the gifts slowly, leaving her and her boyfriend piles to sit in the corner. After all present opening was done, they held up on their own and oozed all over each-other in their own little private ceremony. I was pretty ticked off with this, first because it was very exclusionary. But also, because the whole time, she totally ignored her kids, while they wanted to share with her all of their treasures. I just wish they would have thought to have there own time, perhaps last night, like J. and I did. They could have easily opened each others gifts before bed on Christmas eve. THIS round is for FAMILY. Not for lovers.
I could just go on and on and on. I could tell you about how my sister never really loved her second husband. I could tell you about how she got knocked up before they were married - on purpose because the VD she had gotten from her first husband had potential to effect her fertility. I could tell you about how "unnaturally" parenting comes to her. I could tell you haw she yells constantly and is one of the angriest people I know. I could tell you about how she seems to resent her children, most of all for being a "product" of their father, from whom she is now divorced. I could tell you about how she is fast to smack them. I could tell you about how she makes fun of her oldest in front of everyone-- her oldest who is the most troubled.
I could also tell you how my sister and I used to be great friends. How she helped support me in college. How generous she has been to me. I could tell you how amazingly wonderful her three children are. How M., the oldest, the tom-boy, is going to be an awesome skateboarder. How she is more physically capable than any kid I have ever seen. I could tell you how A., her second and an overachiever, is the fastest reader in the first grade-- how she is so far ahead that she gets to sit with and help out with the disabled kids in class. And she loves to do it! I could tell you about how little W., her youngest and a total brute, is on of the craziest 2 year olds I have ever known. He is a funny, smart, rough little guy who has that most expressive "Uh-Huh" I have ever heard. I love her and her kids so much. I just wish all of our adult bullshit didn't have to be so much in the way all of the time.
Christmas has come and gone.
Mom and dad successful transfered the plague to my poor husband-- who while out to dinner with an old friend last night was overcome by the chills and nausea.
I have miraculously escaped the plague. {knock on wood}
The best gift of all, my little, monster, man-kitty caught his first mouse of the winter season last night and did not even get blood all over the kitchen!! Way to go Bennie!! Keeping 1339 mouse-free since 2006! (See image of Killer below)
____________________
Post Xmas Round-up
Perhaps J. and I have become more grumpy, but it seems like each year christmas gets more and more sad and less and less fun. Now, for all you xmas crazies out there - calm down. I like to decorate my tree, hang my stockings and bake cookies. But the day and the eve are little more than torturous shuffles from one families dinner to the next. It is implied by both families that our absence would create a considerable tear in the familial fabric, but when we are actually there we feel lost and bored-- as though our presence is not needed at all. I think, in part, it is because we do not have children.
THE EVE
So we went to the in-laws on the Eve. We had a quiet day, a quite meal, a sedate round of present opening and a quiet game of cards. His family is so still some times I think I should take all of their pulses. There is the obligatory go around the dinner table to tell what we are thankful for. I am very, very, very nervous about these moments of sharing, so I just come up with something very superficial. If I really talked about my year, it would end with me breaking into tears. Instead, J.'s mother graciously mentioned our year of hardships, and herself, almost started to cry. I am more impressed by my MIL ever year. Even with our differences, she is so sensitive to me and J. I wish I had more to add to that - but that just about sums it up. We did open our own gifts from one another when we got home that night, and that was really fun. J. bought me a really cool necklace that I was eying up. I can't believe he remembered.
THE DAY
Christmas morning we got up early to head to my folks house. The festivities there are typically a veritable clusterf*ck - everything from screaming children, drunk uncles, huge rack of prime rib, fighting sisters and those who always hold up present opening by arriving at least an hour late. But this year, it was so different. Two years ago my dad had a blowout with his oldest sister. Their absence, and the absence of their children and grandchildren cut the attendance from near thirty, to about fifteen. So scale is the first big difference.
Then there is my oldest sister. Her second marriage, to the second a-hole she could find, ended a year ago. But not until after she had produced 3 pretty awesome little rug-rats. She and her brood moved in to my parents home and my sister, as per her habits, picked up with the next douche she could find - one of the dudes that had helped build my parents addition on their house. The guy is ok - but he is young, immature, not real interested in helping to raise my sisters kids, and smokes pot. {I smoked plenty o' reefer as a youngin-- and don't necessarily object to it. But my sister is 36 yo, a school teacher, and has three needy children. She also tends to pick up the habits of her lovers, for fun-- she likes to "become" them. This is not a habit I would like to see her get involved with in this point in her life. Hence, my frowning on it.}
My sisters [omni]presence in my mothers home makes me feel like a visitor in the very same house I grew up in-- a very strange sensation. For YEARS, I was the one who helped do all the x-mas cooking, I was the one who helped my mother slave over the pies and the shrimp and the cheese log. But the house is now partly my sisters house. And she has assumed the chores that I used to love to do with my mom. Additionally, my mother rarely calls for my help anymore-- I think because she perceives that I already have "enough" on my plate. But I want to help. Baking a pie with my mother would be the most normal thing I could possibly do.
So we arrive about 10 a.m.
Bad news. Both of my parents are in bed with a NASTY stomach virus that my sisters youngest dragged home from daycare. It has been clear-cutting through the whole family for a week and finally reached both mom and dad - simultaneously at about 4 am Christmas morning. So the parental buffer is gone. There is no one there to mediate all of our snide sibling behavior. It was awkward and weird and made me realize that with the exception of my nieces and nephews, in my parents absence, there would be very little reason for any of us to ever see each other again. It was a very sad christmas realization.
After my brothers family arrived at their usual 'one hour late' time, we opened presents. My sister passed out the gifts. The kids went wild. I got some nice new bras, that actually fit, and a crock pot that is fit for a family of 6, not 2. My sisters boyfriend gifted the kids with some inappropriately large gifts - like the HUGE air hockey table that will be a problem using in my parents already crowded house. It made me feel really icky and sad-- mostly because they have been so on again off again. Last time I saw my sister, about a month ago, they were off and she had joined match dot com. It is confusing for me to keep track of their status, I can not imagine how confusing it is for her children. Do big gifts mean big love? I just want her kids to have stability-- and she seems so incapable of delivering that.
My sister passed the gifts slowly, leaving her and her boyfriend piles to sit in the corner. After all present opening was done, they held up on their own and oozed all over each-other in their own little private ceremony. I was pretty ticked off with this, first because it was very exclusionary. But also, because the whole time, she totally ignored her kids, while they wanted to share with her all of their treasures. I just wish they would have thought to have there own time, perhaps last night, like J. and I did. They could have easily opened each others gifts before bed on Christmas eve. THIS round is for FAMILY. Not for lovers.
I could just go on and on and on. I could tell you about how my sister never really loved her second husband. I could tell you about how she got knocked up before they were married - on purpose because the VD she had gotten from her first husband had potential to effect her fertility. I could tell you about how "unnaturally" parenting comes to her. I could tell you haw she yells constantly and is one of the angriest people I know. I could tell you about how she seems to resent her children, most of all for being a "product" of their father, from whom she is now divorced. I could tell you about how she is fast to smack them. I could tell you about how she makes fun of her oldest in front of everyone-- her oldest who is the most troubled.
I could also tell you how my sister and I used to be great friends. How she helped support me in college. How generous she has been to me. I could tell you how amazingly wonderful her three children are. How M., the oldest, the tom-boy, is going to be an awesome skateboarder. How she is more physically capable than any kid I have ever seen. I could tell you how A., her second and an overachiever, is the fastest reader in the first grade-- how she is so far ahead that she gets to sit with and help out with the disabled kids in class. And she loves to do it! I could tell you about how little W., her youngest and a total brute, is on of the craziest 2 year olds I have ever known. He is a funny, smart, rough little guy who has that most expressive "Uh-Huh" I have ever heard. I love her and her kids so much. I just wish all of our adult bullshit didn't have to be so much in the way all of the time.
Christmas has come and gone.
Mom and dad successful transfered the plague to my poor husband-- who while out to dinner with an old friend last night was overcome by the chills and nausea.
I have miraculously escaped the plague. {knock on wood}
The best gift of all, my little, monster, man-kitty caught his first mouse of the winter season last night and did not even get blood all over the kitchen!! Way to go Bennie!! Keeping 1339 mouse-free since 2006! (See image of Killer below)
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Peek-a-boo period and a sad man friend.
Peek-a-boo period
My period is meant to arrive tomorrow had my body not been laproscopically and hysteroscopically invaded nearly three weeks ago. I have been having some pretty nasty cramping and a bit of spotting-- very unlike me. Hopefully the crimson tide will wash up a big, nasty clot, or whatever that mysterious black spot was on my ultrasound last week. I had the surgery at a teaching hospital. Perhaps it is a Junior Mint? (remember that Seinfeld episode?)
and a sad man-friend.
My very special man-friend arrived home from his re-union and said, "I am glad you didn't come along."
Normally, one would be alarmed by such a statement, but in this case he was glad I had the foresight not to submerse myself into the grad school pals reunion-- the one where our friends M & J are 6 months pregnant. Ugh, a whole weekend of non-stop baby-talk action and the occasional 'your next' glances. I would have never survived.
After the second miscarriage J. told this couple of our problems. J (the grad school dude) was kind and sad for us, and that was nice. They know what we have been through, but not in any detail, because my J. doesn't do detail. But no one else at the reunion this weekend knows that we are struggling with this. So I dodged a bullet by staying home this weekend-- knowing full well that they, in their absence from our dilemma and blurred by their pregnancy bliss, would not be able to refrain from drooling baby talk for the entire 36 hours. And that is just what happened. So J. came home feeling pretty sad.
J. deals with this far less. Feeling the sadness of our situation may very well be part of the many random thoughts he has from day to day. But he doesn't have to think of it every time he calls the Dr., every time my mom calls, every time he has a cramp, every time he goes to the bathroom, ever time he opens a browser window. He has the privilege of the slightest distance.
This weekend there was no distance for him. He was ambushed. Even though I never want him to feel pain, in a way, I am glad he went to the baby-talk weekend reunion. Because he knows better today, how I feel every day.
My period is meant to arrive tomorrow had my body not been laproscopically and hysteroscopically invaded nearly three weeks ago. I have been having some pretty nasty cramping and a bit of spotting-- very unlike me. Hopefully the crimson tide will wash up a big, nasty clot, or whatever that mysterious black spot was on my ultrasound last week. I had the surgery at a teaching hospital. Perhaps it is a Junior Mint? (remember that Seinfeld episode?)
and a sad man-friend.
My very special man-friend arrived home from his re-union and said, "I am glad you didn't come along."
Normally, one would be alarmed by such a statement, but in this case he was glad I had the foresight not to submerse myself into the grad school pals reunion-- the one where our friends M & J are 6 months pregnant. Ugh, a whole weekend of non-stop baby-talk action and the occasional 'your next' glances. I would have never survived.
I had just started to be not hysterical about our first loss. It was fourth of July weekend. It was hot and we were plastering the hell out of the front room of our broke down house. The room looked like a block of swiss cheese, with a little lath thrown in. We foolishly thought we could get it patched, skimmed and primed by Sunday night. We were so wrong.
Plastering away. Did I mention it is friggin hot? It's mid-day. J.'s phone rings. A call from a good friend of his from grad school. The guy who I argue with all the time because although he acts like a nice guy, he is really a misogynist and treats his wife like a child, not a partner. She likes it. It is all pretty nauseating, but I tolerate it, because they are his friends. But they are not mine.
Small talk ensues. J. says, "What, like a bean, I don't get it? A peanut?" He is so clueless. YO, J. take off the blinders. That's cutsy lingo for baby. They are trying to tell you in some obligatory, 'my brain is turning to baby-mush' code that they are knocked up! Get with the program!
I start to hyperventilate, then run upstairs, embarrassed at how quickly and physically I react to the knife that was just jabbed, one more time, into my heart. I hide in our bathroom and almost pass out because I am crying so hard i can't even breath. Hiding is no use, our bathroom is as porous as the front room-- gaps in the drywall do not make good sound barriers.
This is my recount of M & J's pregnancy announcement. She was 6 weeks pregnant. I was 5 weeks past my first loss.
After the second miscarriage J. told this couple of our problems. J (the grad school dude) was kind and sad for us, and that was nice. They know what we have been through, but not in any detail, because my J. doesn't do detail. But no one else at the reunion this weekend knows that we are struggling with this. So I dodged a bullet by staying home this weekend-- knowing full well that they, in their absence from our dilemma and blurred by their pregnancy bliss, would not be able to refrain from drooling baby talk for the entire 36 hours. And that is just what happened. So J. came home feeling pretty sad.
J. deals with this far less. Feeling the sadness of our situation may very well be part of the many random thoughts he has from day to day. But he doesn't have to think of it every time he calls the Dr., every time my mom calls, every time he has a cramp, every time he goes to the bathroom, ever time he opens a browser window. He has the privilege of the slightest distance.
This weekend there was no distance for him. He was ambushed. Even though I never want him to feel pain, in a way, I am glad he went to the baby-talk weekend reunion. Because he knows better today, how I feel every day.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
An upnote - a few people get it right
I am a negative person by nature. Not something I am proud of, but it is what it is. I think it is important when I spend a few days dwelling, that I then step back and consider what is not so bad.
In particular, since I have bee more recently obsessed with the loss of my fertile friends, I want to spend a moment thinking about a few people who I can count on right now, and who have been exceptionally generous-- listening to me, and supporting me over the last few months.
1.) My two old college pals S. + H (ha, ha... like the stamps). We drifted apart while I was living in the midwest, but we are finally starting to rekindle our friendships-- and for this, I am so grateful. H. lost her mother in 1998 under really tragic circumstances. Because of this, I think she has a good grip on how to talk to those who are going through something that is both painful and private. And S. is currently breaking up with her decade long partner. We are both in that place right now where we never thought we would be. A bit of a living nightmare. Selfishly, I am glad to have friends that can relate to what I am going through, even if our circumstances are different.
2.) My two great friends, S. + A, from grad school who live out in Seattle. S. had a miscarriage the same time as me (the first one). They had been TTC with a known donor (DIY) for about 4 months. She is pregnant again, but understands how hard it is - both because of her miscarriage, but also because as a same sex couple, TTC is harder. Now they are waiting on an amnio after recent blood test came back at 1 in 3 chance of downs. My heart goes out to them. They are that couple. The couple that really should have kids.
3.) My mom - god, I never thought I would say that, and I may change my mind next week, but she has been really great. She loves a good challenge, especially one with drama, lots of medical terms, and a chance to dole out sound advise to a child. She slips up know and then, but for the most part, she is rockin' the house with the support. Way to go, Peggy!
In particular, since I have bee more recently obsessed with the loss of my fertile friends, I want to spend a moment thinking about a few people who I can count on right now, and who have been exceptionally generous-- listening to me, and supporting me over the last few months.
1.) My two old college pals S. + H (ha, ha... like the stamps). We drifted apart while I was living in the midwest, but we are finally starting to rekindle our friendships-- and for this, I am so grateful. H. lost her mother in 1998 under really tragic circumstances. Because of this, I think she has a good grip on how to talk to those who are going through something that is both painful and private. And S. is currently breaking up with her decade long partner. We are both in that place right now where we never thought we would be. A bit of a living nightmare. Selfishly, I am glad to have friends that can relate to what I am going through, even if our circumstances are different.
2.) My two great friends, S. + A, from grad school who live out in Seattle. S. had a miscarriage the same time as me (the first one). They had been TTC with a known donor (DIY) for about 4 months. She is pregnant again, but understands how hard it is - both because of her miscarriage, but also because as a same sex couple, TTC is harder. Now they are waiting on an amnio after recent blood test came back at 1 in 3 chance of downs. My heart goes out to them. They are that couple. The couple that really should have kids.
3.) My mom - god, I never thought I would say that, and I may change my mind next week, but she has been really great. She loves a good challenge, especially one with drama, lots of medical terms, and a chance to dole out sound advise to a child. She slips up know and then, but for the most part, she is rockin' the house with the support. Way to go, Peggy!
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Beers in the afternoon and the epidemic of pregnancy
Yesterday was rough. And since all of my friends are either knocked up, new parents or lame, I decided to treat myself to a burger and a buzz after teaching my morning class (no worries, I did not have to go back to teach:)
MMMMM, Guiness os so good. It sustains me in the winter. I am not a huge beer fan, but the dark stuff is so smooth and delicious. So I had a great lunch, alone-- which I seldom do, but always enjoy. After, I stopped in at a few local boutiuqes and picked up a few x-mas gifts.
One store is a DIY place, handmade stuff and the like. Now that I have decided to ditch all my friends (ill, I hate myself) I have become slightly more gregarious. Even with that, I am still pretty introverted. Regardless, I struck up a conversation with the co-owner of this store. Turns out that we live VERY close to each other and she lives across from this woman that I know, but never really got to cultivate a friendship with. I was siked. Yeah me, some new neighbors, our age without kids! So I asked about M. (the woman we both know) and she says, "Aw, she's great. She just had a baby, like a month ago." And I say, "Wow, I guess I haven't seen her in a while. That is soooo great. Umm, I better go."
It is a freaking epidemic. I have been ambushed. I am totally surrounded. Not only my friends, but my potential friends are already all dirtied up with baby talk. Am going to have to start hanging out with 20 year olds? What does a girl have to do to score some DINK friends?
(DINK = Duel Income, No Kids)
MMMMM, Guiness os so good. It sustains me in the winter. I am not a huge beer fan, but the dark stuff is so smooth and delicious. So I had a great lunch, alone-- which I seldom do, but always enjoy. After, I stopped in at a few local boutiuqes and picked up a few x-mas gifts.
One store is a DIY place, handmade stuff and the like. Now that I have decided to ditch all my friends (ill, I hate myself) I have become slightly more gregarious. Even with that, I am still pretty introverted. Regardless, I struck up a conversation with the co-owner of this store. Turns out that we live VERY close to each other and she lives across from this woman that I know, but never really got to cultivate a friendship with. I was siked. Yeah me, some new neighbors, our age without kids! So I asked about M. (the woman we both know) and she says, "Aw, she's great. She just had a baby, like a month ago." And I say, "Wow, I guess I haven't seen her in a while. That is soooo great. Umm, I better go."
It is a freaking epidemic. I have been ambushed. I am totally surrounded. Not only my friends, but my potential friends are already all dirtied up with baby talk. Am going to have to start hanging out with 20 year olds? What does a girl have to do to score some DINK friends?
(DINK = Duel Income, No Kids)
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Self-alienation feels so right
A list of reasons why I have decided I am totally cool to not have any fertile friends in the form of a list of things that have been said to me in the last few months by by these same fertile friends:
L: It just seems like this is another reason why women get pitted against each other. I can't help it that you can not get pregnant.
Response I would given in hindsight: I can get pregnant... over, and over and over and over. But my body kills them. Big freakin difference.
C: I am disappointed and pissed that I can not use a midwife because of my epilepsy - Can you tell me the name of the Dr. who gave you bad advise so I don't go to him?
Response I would give in hindsight: Don't come to me with your sob stories. Lesson number one - having kids is nothing like the bull-shit lines we've been fed since we were kids. I know that all too well. Not everyone gets the glow, the perfect birth, etc. Some of us don't even get the kid. So suck it up, go to your OB and don't bother me with questions I can not answer. Remember, while you were getting knocked up, I was getting fetus #2 vuc-u-sucked from my womb.
L: I know exactly what you are going through because when I was in my thirties I wanted kids like crazy but there was just no partners around.
My response: Well, actually, it is nothing like that. There is a big difference between not having a partner and your body being physically malformed in a way that prevents successful pregnancies.
N: You can have one of my kids. Take your pick.
My response: I think they might be a little attached to you by now.
C (at a social gathering): Pregnancy is really just on inconvenience. I am just tired and hungry all of the time.
My response: Chin to chest. Don't make eye contact with anyone. Block it out. Inconvenience? Is she kidding? F-off.
Goodbye friends. You can get updates from my husband, but I would rather you did not care, because I know that ignoring you is shitty. I am a total asshole for this. But it is the best I can do, even if it is nasty at best.
L: It just seems like this is another reason why women get pitted against each other. I can't help it that you can not get pregnant.
Response I would given in hindsight: I can get pregnant... over, and over and over and over. But my body kills them. Big freakin difference.
C: I am disappointed and pissed that I can not use a midwife because of my epilepsy - Can you tell me the name of the Dr. who gave you bad advise so I don't go to him?
Response I would give in hindsight: Don't come to me with your sob stories. Lesson number one - having kids is nothing like the bull-shit lines we've been fed since we were kids. I know that all too well. Not everyone gets the glow, the perfect birth, etc. Some of us don't even get the kid. So suck it up, go to your OB and don't bother me with questions I can not answer. Remember, while you were getting knocked up, I was getting fetus #2 vuc-u-sucked from my womb.
L: I know exactly what you are going through because when I was in my thirties I wanted kids like crazy but there was just no partners around.
My response: Well, actually, it is nothing like that. There is a big difference between not having a partner and your body being physically malformed in a way that prevents successful pregnancies.
N: You can have one of my kids. Take your pick.
My response: I think they might be a little attached to you by now.
C (at a social gathering): Pregnancy is really just on inconvenience. I am just tired and hungry all of the time.
My response: Chin to chest. Don't make eye contact with anyone. Block it out. Inconvenience? Is she kidding? F-off.
Goodbye friends. You can get updates from my husband, but I would rather you did not care, because I know that ignoring you is shitty. I am a total asshole for this. But it is the best I can do, even if it is nasty at best.
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