Walmart.
I was just running in to get a few crafty things for my Etsy when I ran into a Crayola display knocking over fifty boxes of stupid little crayons(that I didn't pick up..ha ha...take that infertility) side tracked by the huge yellow signs and twelve isles that threw up notebooks, pens, and paper.
Damn it. Is this shit really happening again!??
I had tweeted awhile back. "You know you're old when your high school friends are enrolling their kids in high school. Hashtag old. Hashtag infertile. Hashtag scrambeld eggs. Hashtag bitter."
If we could go ahead and cancel "back to school", Mothers Day, Fathers Day, Easter and Christmas that would be just great. Thanks.
Those five reasons right there makes it absolutely impossible for me to understand "secondary" infertility. Sorry? Maybe it is because I already understand the reality of my infertility at almost 34(bah bah bahmm). We are only affording ourselves one obnoxiously overpriced crock of shit billion dollar greedy industry IVF(tell us how you really feel) so if we are successful with just one I will thank my lucky blessed fertile gods God every day.
And myself and husband for the emotional and physical hell we are about to endure for a chance at this gift.
True mother trucking story.
And the embryologist for knowing his/her shit.
I wanted to have kids since I was very young and not just one. More like 4...teen. Thats the thing with infertility. People ask me often "how long have you been trying." For me mentally I have had the desire and longing to be a mom since I was young. I was told in high school that I would come back to class reunions with five kids running around annoying the shit out of everyone.
Way to prove them wrong infertility. Thank you. Asshole.
Silver lining is I would have never met my husband in 2004 and would be stuck in a dead end unhappy relationship divorced with 4 kids.
"You're welcome Rachel."
Sincerely,
Infertility.(bitch)
But the reality that keeps slapping drop kicking me in the face every time something like this rolls around is that time does not stop for anyone and with it goes the holidays and your friends and families kids getting older while you enjoy sleeping in, adult dinners and doing whatever the hell you want without annoying little shits tagging along fucking up your perfect day. That is just disgusting. Who would ever hope for such a dream.
But really.....
Where is my back to school list damn it? Oh here it is......
Back to school on reading an infertiles mind:
Pretty much.
...even this end cap is mocking us. Therapy much?
There are no book bags to be bought. No ridiculously long and expensive fun school lists to cross off. No first day of school pictures with the cute Pinterest printables you forgot to print so you scribbled on a notebook piece of paper the morning of. No little league games to cheer at. No prize Easter eggs to hunt. No cards for mommy and daddy telling them, "how mutch you luv thim, exspecalee win u giv me kake". No tooth-fairy dust to leave. No summer beach vacations building sand castles, lathering on bottle after bottle of unwanted sunscreen then hauling 200lbs of crap to the beach and even though you bought the more expensive cooler with wheels your shit is still dragging like you are pulling a 757, while your six and seven year old are screaming their feet are burning because they took their shoes off like you told them not too(true story). No special pajamas to open on Christmas Eve or reindeer food to leave. No.....
Ok, seriously we get it Rachel. Calm your ovaries tits.
Point is I am feeling the pressure squeezing down on my eggs to get this shitshow on the road. With every childless passing school year and holiday I feel the squeeze. Even though I shop buy everything for my niece and nephew EVERY year who are now teens because they have horrible awesome parents is a reminder of just how old and childless I still am.
Mini-vent. The fact that I have called the base hospital twice a day for the fifth day, just to get my lab results so I can start my prescription, with no call back yet doesn't help either.
No matter how positive you tell yourself to be every day. Every week. Month after month. Year after year. We just can't cancel the miscarriage due dates, holidays or back to school shopping(I've tried but people thought it was infertile ignorant of me) because Rachel stubbed her toe on the way up the fertile ladder. That's what they make wine for. Go have a glass or ten and feel better about yourself. err..temporarily..then repeat?
You could avoid all retail stores in March, end of July-September, and definitely November and December. Huge red your period will probably come twice those months flag.
Or it will be late for those months thinking you struck the infertile lottery of "she was on a break from IVF and TTC for 10 years and got pregnant miraculously. On her own of course."
...or just have some kale.
"Thanks Ryan. But you have to stop giving me all this kale. My husband is bound to catch on to us once he finds this blog."
but in the meantime.....
Smooches. Lover boy.
I have solutions for everything. You are welcome.
Bye.
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