Where NOT to go

On Day 1 of your period:

JoAnn's Fabrics, 5 PM. I got into the line, the lady in front of me had three kids, the one in back of me had two little boys. The line snaked over 10 people long, I idly glanced around, and realized that I was the only female under the age of 50 who was there without a kid. It was one of those weird moments when someone else seems to be inhabiting your body.

The mom army looked tired, but cheerful, steadfastly denying multiple requests for candy and fielding phone calls and obviously trying to figure out just what the hell they were going to fix for dinner tonight.

I am thinking that this may be the rest of my life.

I talked to my mom. I have had one horrible conversation with her since Thanksgiving, haven't heard from anyone else, and so I figured I should call.

She asked if I had decided to continue with treatment or not.

"Well," I said, "Unless we move on to IVF, it's pretty pointless. I have kind of decided that I am not screwing over my body anymore for less than a 25% chance at something."

"Well, we never heard back from you," she said, "About whether you wanted help still. We were waiting to hear what the doctor had to say."

"Ok...." I trailed off kind of aimlessly. "You know Mom, I pretty much left the ball in the court with you guys. When I didn't hear back, I didn't want to be pushy."

"Well, we didn't want it to seem like we were being invasive."

ARRRRGH!!!!! ARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!

"Mom, I opened that door. It's not invasive to ask for info you need to know to make a decision." (Even though I have told them everything that could possibly have any bearing on this...and I made it clear that we were waiting on their decision so I could make mine!)

"Well, it sounds like you have changed your mind, but if you want our help, all you have to do is ask for it."

"I probably will reevaluate things after the first of the year. Thanks for offering."

This is when she starts to backpedal.

"Well, we may be able to help with part of it. Maybe half and half."

Which she knows perfectly well isn't a possibility for us. I wish it was, but the military isn't exactly overly generous, and the housing market in Cali has tanked, so a second is out of the question at this point. Add on college tuition, and we're getting by, but our savings is not what it should be.

I did my best to get off the phone without blowing up, and now I am sitting here, seething.

I can't ask for or expect help from these people any more. I need to accept that offering is only a gesture, not a reality with them, and that if it fails, I will never hear the end of it and my guilt will be crippling. It's just not worth it. If I am doing this, it is just going to have to happen on its own, or it is not happening at all. And I am just going to have to accept that.

At least, that's how it looks to me at 11:30 PM on a Wednesday night.crap. It's much too late to try to go watch Enchanted again.

And I did it to myself! Part Two

You can read about Part One here.

Fast forward a few months- My best friend and I get the invites done, do RSVP's, get the napkins and games and gifts together, you know the deal. Operation Baby Shower was now in full effect.

In the meantime, I had been prescribed my first-ever cycle of Clomid. I'd had another friend who had taken it, and got pregnant with twins on the first shot. I was totally unprepared for the hot flashes and mood swings that lingered on the horizon. (She didn't mention that part.)

We packed up and made the four-hour drive. We were going to stay overnight for two nights, then drive home early on Sunday morning. I had no idea that I was a ticking time bomb of The Crazy.

The first evening went fine, although our friend was in the final stages of pregnancy and was miserable about...well, everything. Although, If you still have morning sickness in your eighth month, I think you may be a little bit entitled. She kept joking that, "If he won't stop crying, I'll just leave him at the fire station."

OK, I could deal with that. It was a joke. Very funny!

Then her mother came from out of town the next morning, and she kept making the joke, and first-time Grandma freaked out every time she said it. In addition, we were helping to clean up and get things ready, and her mom was kind of making us all nuts. ("Doesn't it embarrass you that your friends have to clean your house for you?!" Arrrgh!)

Everything was fine. The guests showed up. I managed to discreetly sneak off at intervals and do some deep breathing whenever I got emotional. I was flushed and sweating thanks to the Clomid, but I held it together, at least publicly. We oohed and aahed over the baby gifts, and as soon as everyone left, I had a little private teary moment in the guest room, when I called The Man. I felt sick with jealousy, and I just wanted to come home.

When I cleaned myself up and emerged, it was still pretty early in the afternoon, and we were talking about going to see a movie. I was thrilled, because we were close to a large city, where they were pre-screening what looked like a really adorable movie, something you'd take your kids to go see. Nothing that could possibly upset me.

March of the Penguins!

To Be Continued...

And I did it to myself! Part One

Okay. My worst infertility trainwreck ever...not the breakdown in front of all my relatives at Christmas last year, although that runs a close second.

It all started when I was out at lunch having sushi, a little over two years ago, with my best friend. We know each other from college, so we also have a lot of mutual friends who go way back.

One of these mutual friends got married the same year The Man and I did, and she called my best friend, so I was sort of involuntarily stuck eavesdropping to a one-sided conversation.

When I heard the sentence, "Well, what kind of yoga will you be doing? Because there are some poses that wouldn't be safe for...um....things...." I pretty much knew what was up. So did my best friend, who saw the look on my face and apologized and apologized, and as soon as she got off the phone.

"I'm so sorry! We didn't want you to find out this way, but we didn't want to hurt your feelings, and she didn't know how to tell you. It just happened on their first try!"

In her defense, this was before I had said much beyond the fact that we were trying, and there hadn't been a lot of steps taken aside from initial testing and charting and OPK's. And due to really unfortunate timing, it was Day One for me that day.

I got out, "Oh! I am so happy for her!!!!" in a voice ringing with sincerity (because it was the truth). And then I burst into tears. I made several attempts to stop them, but it was impossible, and all that my brain kept saying to me was during those college days, this person had been vocal about never wanting kids.

Because, you know, nobody is ever allowed to change their minds about decisions that they made when they were twenty. I'm such a dork.

That was the first time my best friend had ever seen me cry in the twelve years she had known me, and of course it just made us more embarrassed, and we both felt even worse, and so for some incredibly stupid reason...no, let's face it, to try to atone to myself and to make my best friend feel less horrible for breaking the news like that, and to prove to my mutual friend that I was really exited for her...

I said I would help to co-throw a baby shower for the new arrival.

To be continued...