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Club Kitchen

PBF is due this week. I keep checking my phone because she promised to text me when she goes into labor. It’s put me into a weird state where I am alternately excited and filled with fondness for this person (who has been an extremely compassionate best-friend-of-an-infertile, as well as being the most awesome person) and wracked with sobs of deepest despair. The despair sounds kinda like this: can it really be possible that I will never have this experience? Is this really my life? When oh when will my fucking drugs get sorted out so I can at least feel like I’m doing something? How will I endure the next five months with no chance at conceiving when I’m freaking out about the possibility of things being delayed by a week? When will I be capable of feeling happy again? What if the answer is never?

I know–SO BORING. Basically the set of feelings most of us go through on a daily basis. Anyway, last night I tried a cure that has sometimes made me feel better, or at least briefly more alive. My husband is out of town, so I put my favorite mix on the iPod player in the kitchen and danced my little heart out. With the lights off so the neighbors couldn’t see my craziness. I used to love to go dancing when I was not so old and lame… At first I was like I don’t remember how to do this anymore. That felt really fucked up. Like my body is had turned into this fossilized object that can only 1) sit at a computer and 2) fail to conceive. But this particular mix includes songs that span my musical life–from the early Pixies and obscure Russian rock band days to more recent stuff (any Ra.tata.t fans out there?) so I was eventually swept up in a nostalgic wave that allowed me to get over myself a little bit. As always, though, things came back to that gaping black hole in my life. There’s an unfortunate Lo.w song on the mix, I.n Meta.l, in which the singer describes her reluctance to see her baby grow up and her desire to protect her daughter. It’s full of cooing baby sounds. Rad.

I don’t know, folks. Sometimes I think that in a few years I’ll look back at this bleak era (which so far isn’t even the worst part of my life, though I realize things could go plenty down from here) and think, that was hard, but we got through it. Other days I imagine myself still in exactly this place. Still whining online, to a new group of sad women, because all of you will have moved on. Still trying to recapture some fragment of my former self by visiting Club Kitchen, and still failing.

10 Comments Post a comment
  1. I can identify with this post a lot, especially the line "Is this really my life?" I think that thought every morning. I felt the same when I separated from my (manic-depressive) husband. "Holy crap. I'm one of those divorced people now." Not that I ever thought ill of divorced people, but still. This is my life now? I'm obviously still divorced, but I'm way past that.I'm absolutely sure that you'll be looking back on this as a past, bleak era. You're moving forward, and I'd bet the RE would tell you that you've got an excellent prognosis. Ask her or him.

    February 24, 2010
  2. I love Club Kitchen. I've found that I turn to Ska in what I call "ska therapy(tm)." Desmond Dekker will melt away your worries and take a bit of pressure out of that vaccuum that is a gaping hole of fail. I'm with you on being that woman. I'm working on reanimating the old me in a Frankenstein sort of way. Aiming for a lovable monster, right? That seems doable. I just have to hide the neighbor's pitchforks in case that goes horribly wrong.I still think the current (albeit maybe a bit miserable) bunny is quite fun. It's bleak, but there's hope in that it's not hopeless.

    February 24, 2010
  3. Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. I have this sinking feeling that I'm going to be stuck in this rut forever…it's just awful and fatalistic and sad. Still, I have hope for us! I really believe your RE is going to get you through this. That you will absolutely, positively be one of the pregnant ones helping IFers to the other side…I believe for you, Bunny!I think getting your meds is going to make a big difference. The limbo zone where you're doing NOTHING to reach your goal is the worst part of it all, in my opinion. It's simply excrutiating. UGH. Dance. Drink. Do whatever the heck you want during this tough time. We'll be here with you.

    February 24, 2010
  4. I also have a PBF, though she's not that far along yet. And like you've said, I alternate between excitement and love for her, and pain. With lots of private sniffling thrown in. It's such a difficult situation (and so hard not to feel like you're being left far, far behind). One thing is certain: a few years down the line there's no way you're going to be in exactly this place. I also think it HIGHLY likely that you're going to be precisely where you hope to be. And I hope that once the drugs get figured out it will feel like the ball is rolling in that direction again. The five months thing sucks no matter which way you slice it. You have every right to feel blue about that (and a PBF doesn't help matters).

    February 24, 2010
  5. I wonder the same thing that you wrote about in your last paragraph. I hope that we both achieve our dreams and move on from this time of our lives.

    February 24, 2010
  6. JC #

    Lol, your club kitchen cracked me up. I think I would feel the same way, like "how do I do this again?" I would probably need a few drinks or shots to really get back to the good ole days when I clubbed it up. I'm glad you felt better for a little while. I hope you feel good and ok when your PBF has her baby. You might feel ok, you never know. If now alow yourself to cry or hit something or whatever you need to do. It sucks! It just does. I wonder/dream about the day I look back on IF…I just hope there comes a day when I have a baby and can look back. I think it'll happen for both of us. =)

    February 25, 2010
  7. I've actually always felt better about people with babies than pregnant people. Maybe because pregnancy seems like it's all sunshine and perfect anticipation, while real life babies highlight the reality of sleepless nights, grouchy parents and colic. It kinda makes you feel a little less worse about your own situation, somehow. Until then, dance, dance, dance!

    February 25, 2010
  8. JB #

    You earn a million bonus points for invoking the Pixies. My husband was just serenading me with the bass line from Gigantic last night (of course, I was trying to watch tv, but whatever). Dance, dance revolution!

    February 25, 2010
  9. Al #

    Love that you broke it down in your kitchen. I used to love doing that randomly when no one's watching but like u I feel all awkward now. Though some alcohol always helps :-).I hear you on all the questions on your first paragraph and I wonder where I'll be in two years, three years from now. Will I still be fighting this fight?! When will there be an end? I think I need to figure out a timeline of when enough is enough so I didn't get stuck on this nightmare-ish roller coaster ride.Hope you surprise yourself with the joy you feel when your BFFs baby arrives. I'm petrified of what I'll do in April when my SIL gives birth again. Scared shitless, I can only imagine what I'll be like the week of.

    February 25, 2010
  10. Ugh, I know. It feels like some endless loop out of a nightmare, doesn't it? When will this ever end? Will it end happily? Is all of this just for nothing at all? Will my obsessive need for a baby damn me to an eternity of cycling, fertility drugs, failed IUIs, failed IVFs, back to the drawing board, more tests, more failed cycles, etc, etc, ad infinitum, ad nauseum? And the worst part is that there are no answers to any of those questions, for any of us. Geez, what a bummer comment, I'm sorry! Looks like I might have some issues with this as well!And bunny, I know it's so much worse for you. I don't know how I would handle a forced break (even if I were encouraged to try naturally) of such a long time. Just try to remember that you are capable of being happy again!! There will be dark days ahead, but there will be good days, too!

    February 26, 2010

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