My post-surgical follow up appointment was today, and nothing awful happened. Let me just repeat that, as it's not something we can take for granted. NOTHING AWFUL HAPPENED. Indeed, the things that happened were more or less on the good side.
First, my incision is healing well enough that I have been released from pelvic rest. I was initially told six weeks of nothing up the vagina, and it's only been two weeks. Get ready, vagina! I've got a pile of things I've been saving up for you, including an umbrella, a VIKING RUNE CANDLE, and...oh yeah, my husband's penis.
Second, I get another HSG! Okay, this is not actually good. But I was wondering whether there'd be any assessment of the workings of my interior, so I'm glad I'll get to find out if my tubes are still clear. My last HSG was no big deal, though I know it's a nightmare for some women. I will call to schedule that as soon as I get my period. Good times! Lookin' forward to it!
Third, my timeline has not changed. Given my RE's magical failure when it comes to communicating about timelines, this was a big relief. Ten weeks from now we recommence our efforts to get me knocked up. (This time my RE seemed to expect us to do IUI rather than regular intimacy, which is fine with me. Whatever!)
When I think of sitting on the baby-making bench for ten weeks, it feels like an awfully long time. But when I consider that it's my entire summer, it seems incredibly brief. I gots maaaaad partying to cram into that short span. So I'd better get started.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
Frito Pie: Es la comida de mi gente
I've been wanting to do a Come and Eat post, and finally got off my ass.
I'm extremely white, but was born and raised in New Mexico. One of the foods of my homeland is the noble frito pie. In its canonical form, frito pie involves opening one of those mini bags of fritos, pouring in some chile, and topping with cheese and chopped iceberg lettuce. In its canonical form, it's utterly disgusting. The chile is of the lowest possible quality, with lumps of gristly ground beef. The meal is 95% salt. But...the soul of frito pie is a beautiful, glorious thing. A thing that takes very little time to make, is fairly nutritious, and...fucking rocks. This weekend we did the monthly top-to-bottom housecleaning and therefore earned the right to eat frito pie.
So here's how it works. Step 1: Make chile. You know, however you like it. Here's what goes into mine (it's vegetarian). In that little round jar is my special supply of New Mexican red chile powder. Your frito pie will never be as good as my frito pie because you don't have this special supply of red chile powder, but that's okay. Just limp sadly along with your inferior chile.
Step 2: Assemble. Fritos on the bottom, chile on top, cheese, sour cream, taco sauce, whatever. To make it extra hippytastic, I topped it with some tiny greens from the garden. Frito Pie with Micro Arugula...I can just see it on some fancy-ass menu...In my house we also like to honor the frito pie by selecting the most amusingly shaped frito we can find and using it as garnish. Nom.
I'm extremely white, but was born and raised in New Mexico. One of the foods of my homeland is the noble frito pie. In its canonical form, frito pie involves opening one of those mini bags of fritos, pouring in some chile, and topping with cheese and chopped iceberg lettuce. In its canonical form, it's utterly disgusting. The chile is of the lowest possible quality, with lumps of gristly ground beef. The meal is 95% salt. But...the soul of frito pie is a beautiful, glorious thing. A thing that takes very little time to make, is fairly nutritious, and...fucking rocks. This weekend we did the monthly top-to-bottom housecleaning and therefore earned the right to eat frito pie.
Step 2: Assemble. Fritos on the bottom, chile on top, cheese, sour cream, taco sauce, whatever. To make it extra hippytastic, I topped it with some tiny greens from the garden. Frito Pie with Micro Arugula...I can just see it on some fancy-ass menu...In my house we also like to honor the frito pie by selecting the most amusingly shaped frito we can find and using it as garnish. Nom.
Friday, May 7, 2010
The end of an era
In addition, tonight Mr. Bunny will be rejoining me in the marital bed. He's been sleeping in the guest room since I got home from the hospital. I suppose it makes me a huge asshole, but I'm not excited to have him back. He's a super loud snorer and tends to toss and turn a lot. (I'm a quiet snorer and only toss and turn a little.) It will be an adjustment. I probably shouldn't have arranged things so that I'm coming off my nice mellowing drug at the same time. I anticipate several days of extreme crankiness.
Finally, my ovaries hurt. I've been having some pinging on both sides that is now primarily localized to the right side. (Please don't waste all your turns, right side! I'm going to need you later!) And I've been feeling a certain...how do you say...HORNYNESS. In fact, last night I had an orgasm in my sleep. If you've never experienced this, it's...odd. It wakes you up. This time it extra woke me up because my uterus is not supposed to be contracting, and it HURT. I know I'm supposed to be on pelvic rest, but I guess I just can't control myself, horn dog that I am. So anyways, I think my lady parts might be coming online again. (Though I'm still having fucking hot flashes, estrogen patch notwithstanding.)
In general, I feel like I'm moving back into something akin to normal life. I've been thinking over the things y'all have said about taking advantage of this break. I would love to try to be happy-ish. I'd love to restore my sense of self-worth, my enjoyment of life. (You know, to the extent that I ever enjoyed life.) Maybe I can even achieve some scholarly productivity! (Speaking of which, we're about to analyze the data for the project that's been going on while I've been wallowing in misery. Please please please please let there be something publishable in there.)
But I also feel like I need to DO something to set this new state in motion. Anyone got any advice about how to flip the psychological switch that will transform the next two months from TTC break into fun time?
Thursday, May 6, 2010
In which I pass for one of THEM
My office is across the street from the hospital associated with Mediocre Institution. As it happens, my route to work takes me right past the maternity area. So my morning typically involves seeing numerous pregnant women waddling their way to the entrance for checkups or giving birth or whatever it is they do in there. (I also get to walk past my clinic. HI, CLINIC!) Most of the time this just starts my day off with a little low-level angst, though certainly not enough to make me take the long way around. That route is even less scenic, as it involves the hospital loading dock and what I suspect are the incinerators. I'd rather have pregnant ladies. So imagine me walking down a long, wide sidewalk with pregnant women comin' at me. Feel free to imagine them all pixilated, like an early version of Space Invaders. (Feel free to imagine me being super beautiful while you're at it.) On my recent trip to the office I was making my way down this sidewalk a bit slowly, perhaps with a slightly odd gait. And I was wearing a dress in the baby doll style, because it was comfy. Because my abdomen was swollen and distended.
So up waddles a pregnant woman.
She makes eye contact.
She looks at my belly.
She smiles a smile of camaraderie and shared joy at me.
I wonder if this is as close as I'll ever come to having that we're pregnant and it's so awesome experience.
I shoot her with my laser canon and reach an all time high score.
So up waddles a pregnant woman.
She makes eye contact.
She looks at my belly.
She smiles a smile of camaraderie and shared joy at me.
I wonder if this is as close as I'll ever come to having that we're pregnant and it's so awesome experience.
I shoot her with my laser canon and reach an all time high score.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Boring, frivolous shit
Lest you think all I do is stroke my beard and contemplate my own fascinating inner workings (both physical and mental...though I'm a materialist, in the philosophical, not the Madonna sense, so believe the mental IS the physical), here's some totally non-intellectual foddder. And if you're like I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR STUPID COOKIES RIGHT NOW, I quite understand.
First, I remembered that while sitting on my ass recovering I can BUY things! Things I don't need! Like these shoes! Because how could I not buy these shoes? I found them on a favorite site (JC, have you ever seen this site? Their logo looks just like Milo!) though they didn't have my size. But google led me to another site that Bionic Baby Mama recently turned me on to. The interwebs is so small, y'all! They arrived yesterday and are comfy and cute, particularly if you ignore my skinny, bruised, hideous legs. Now all that remains is to find the perfect accompanying frock.
Second, it's been about month since I planted my garden, and things are coming along okay, although I feel like my greens should be further ahead by now. Yesterday I planted the tomato and pepper seedlings that have been keeping warm inside. I am hopeful that at least some of them will survive and that I'll get a tomato or two. It's hard not to think about eggs and fertilization and death and life and...more death, what with the slugs, but perhaps when I get some actual fucking produce I will think about...uh...I dunno...FOOD.
Also, NEW YOU CAN'T USE AND DON'T CARE ABOUT. 1. Everything you guys write makes me cry, so I think maybe I'm having some real lady hormones again! Or else I've become very invested in what's going on in your lives. It could happen. 2. With a few exceptions (like while laundry is being done) I've been wearing Mr. Bunny's pyjama shirt for two weeks straight. I'm not sure I'll be able to tolerate human clothing ever again. Though I guess I'll have to, as it's a little risqué for teaching, and, more important, my new shoes don't go.
Also, NEW YOU CAN'T USE AND DON'T CARE ABOUT. 1. Everything you guys write makes me cry, so I think maybe I'm having some real lady hormones again! Or else I've become very invested in what's going on in your lives. It could happen. 2. With a few exceptions (like while laundry is being done) I've been wearing Mr. Bunny's pyjama shirt for two weeks straight. I'm not sure I'll be able to tolerate human clothing ever again. Though I guess I'll have to, as it's a little risqué for teaching, and, more important, my new shoes don't go.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Best Friend with Baby speaks
I enjoy posts where women interview their husbands about the manly side of infertility (you know, the side that smokes cigars and uses chain saws) or, in general, where the more physically involved partner interviews the less physically involved partner. I've never been inspired to do it myself, but I have considered interviewing the other main character in my life, BFB. After reading Secret Sloper's recent post about her best friend, I decided to do it. What follows is an interview conducted over IM. A few things I'd like to say at the outset. First, BFB has promised never look for this interview, and we can trust her. So if you have any thoughts, feel free to voice them as you won't be hurting her feelings. Second, it's possible something she says might make you feel bad or annoyed, and if so, fuck her! I'm doing this because I'm curious about what the experience looks like from the outside, not because I think she deserves a voice or something. 'Cause when it comes to IF, she doesn't. Her little sadnesses, while real, are trivial bullshit compared to what you guys are going through. If that makes any sense. And third, I realize this is an exercise in navel-gazing between two good friends, so may be of limited value to others. (Plus it has a certain self-congratulatory flavor...) But I learned a number of interesting new things by doing it. And if you can't be bothered to read it, you might at least enjoy knowing that a) she's envious of my internet friends, and b) I call her an obnoxious bag of fecundity.
Bunny: Okay. Here's my first question. What does my experience look like from the outside? I know that’s broad, but…
BFB: Oh, wow, yeah, that is a big question. It looks like it sucks, obviously, but that's not a particularly interesting observation. One thing that I didn't really appreciate before is how crummy it is for being both punctual (you get to have a sequence of MANY individual disappointing and miserable events) and unbounded (it goes on and on and you don't know when it will stop, and in a way I guess it doesn't ever stop — you will still feel certain ways no matter how many babies you have). Okay, so that's one thing. Another is… hmm, I'm finding this hard to articulate, but it's something like how much it can trump almost anything else. It gets first dibs on your schedule and your emotions, which must be really exhausting in its own right. At the moment, I find that I'm thinking of the experience as something separate from you that kind of assaults you. That's probably not right. But I'm trying to say that I'm impressed that you remain so much YOU while dealing with all this shit, and also that it seems pretty clear that it's something that can take up a lot of your sense of self. Ugh. Does that make any sense at all?
Bunny: Sure! Although on that last point, I'm not sure I believe you. I feel like a very different person. My sense of self has taken a real hit. Sometimes maybe I just pretend to be me. You know, 'cause gelatinous weeping person is less interesting to be around.
BFB: Well, don't we all. I'll always love you, my gelatinous blob friend. But yeah, that seems like a really hard part of it — keeping a sense of yourself aside from Being Infertile, or whatever. Also, I was really struck by what you said the other day about how it's hard to connect all the procedures to the desired outcome anymore. Oh, it's just this thing I do, having abdominal surgery and being wretched. It's my hobby!
Bunny: I think those are some good observations. Either you're astute or I've just been very clear about the sucky aspects. Some infertile women feel that their fertile friends don't understand how much it absorbs every moment of their existence, is all they think about, CAN'T be pushed aside... etc.
BFB: Well, you are articulate! Also, we've made a real effort to actually see each other often, which probably helps.
Bunny: So you said "didn't really appreciate before". I think before I had this experience I thought infertility (IF) only happened to sad losers with low sperm count. I was astonished at the lengths people went to in order to get pregnant. I was an ignorant, insensitive asshole. What was your prior experience?
BFB: Well, before we actually started trying to conceive, I'd been reading a few blogs by women dealing with infertility. Partly just because they were smart and funny, and partly because I had this idea that I should be prepared for the possibility. Soooo, on the one hand that helped to preempt some ignorant notions I might have formed. But on the other it has made me unfortunately hyper-aware and twitchy about how people think about "fertiles".
Bunny: Oh, I bet.
BFB: And so, quite aside from interacting with you and your specific experience, I've sometimes oscillated between feeling defensive (I'm not "a fertile"! People who have babies aren't necessarily ungrateful cows, even if they are ambivalent or sad!) and feeling like I am in no position to get to feel defensive about anything.
Bunny: Yeah, I think that's perfectly understandable. The whole ingroup / outgroup dynamic is unfortunate. Though also necessary.
BFB: It is, but… exactly.
Bunny: We could have a long conversation about it, but it would probably get really academic.
BFB: Ha, yes, I was just thinking the very same thing. I guess the other thing I want to say on that same topic is that one thing that has made me sad is the sense that fertility seems to give me automatic lifetime status as a Fortunate Person, which I certainly am, in more ways than just that! But… it means that I don't feel entitled to look for much in the way of sympathy when things aren't perfect. Which, whatever, it's probably good for me to get over myself sometimes. And I can always cry at Mr. BFB. This dynamic isn't something I particularly attribute to you, by the way. It's just there.
Bunny: Sure, I can see how that would be the case. I've felt something a little similar in that I've got this cushy job... Do you think that would have been less of an issue if you hadn't been reading IF blogs? You know, if you'd kept yourself more ignorant?
BFB: Maybe! Although it's not like I wouldn't have been able to see that you are right there having a FUCKING MISERABLE time. But, yeah, I probably wouldn't be quite as aware that pretty much everyone agrees that infertility misery completely trumps things like "I lack career success." On the other hand, then I would be even more of a dink than I am, so there's that.
Bunny: Except actually very few people agree that IF misery trumps other things, it would appear. Mainly they're like Why don't you just adopt? Even nice people like Mutual Friend. So I think you somehow managed to arrive at a pretty enlightened view. Moving on. So you'd been reading these blogs...what was it like when you learned I was ONE OF THEM?
BFB: It was like OH SHIT SHE'LL HATE ME FOREVER IF I GET PREGNANT.
Bunny: Which I obviously do and will.
BFB: QED.
Bunny: Okay, so next question.
BFB: And later I was jealous that now you had Internet Friends of your own that I won't know.
Bunny: Seriously? But you've always had YOUR internet friends!
BFB: I know! It's stupid.
Bunny: I think it's sweet. So how much time do / did you spend worrying about my feelings? Either when you were pregnant or now? And if that number is greater than zero, what are some of the specific things you’ve worried about saying or doing?
BFB: Oh my god. I spend loads of time worrying about your feelings! Here are things I have worried about: Upsetting you with my mere presence. Nattering on about myself and my baby. Forgetting to ask how things are going, or asking when you want to think about something else. Overstepping my bounds in acting like I know about IF, both all its glorious technical details and its emotional valences. Taking the wrong attitude with respect to when vs. if you get pregnant. Comparing your experience to something else — which you would think would be simple enough to JUST AVOID, and yet it's a very common conversational strategy. Oh! And finally, and this is a big one, making you feel like I am tiptoeing around something in a way that would make you feel hurt and sad, while also not just gratuitously talking about things that rub your nose in feeling hurt and sad.
Bunny: Things as in pregnancy things you were experiencing?
BFB: Yeah. I think mostly I've just erred on the side of telling you about everything.
Bunny: Yeah, and I have (at least, I think I have) tended to ask.
BFB: You have!
Bunny: You've said you're interested in hearing about what I’m going through, and I believe you. But you don't always ask. So if you’re not asking about it, is it more likely that you're not interested at the moment (because no one can be interested in one topic at all times) or is it more likely that you’re not sure if I want to talk?
BFB: The latter. Sometimes people want to natter about other stuff when they're sad (Mr. BFB, especially, which probably has trained me in this direction) and I don't always see the right conversational opening. But I can ask more if that would feel better for you. However, it really is the case that I would ALWAYS like to know.
Bunny: I think you should feel free to ask. (It's very weird to me that Mr. BFB would rather talk about other things when he's sad. CRAZY! I wonder if Mr. Bunny it the same! It doesn't seem like it, but it would explain some exchanges...) I think it's one of those things where I feel like I'm burdening you if I bring it up and you worry about me not wanting to talk about it, so you're denied my fascinating stories about fascinating me, and I feel...I dunno...unsupported. Not that I'm saying I feel unsupported, which I don't, except to the extent that you can't possibly support me. We just need a code word that sums up the whole I want to hear if you want to talk biznazz.
BFB: We totally do.
Bunny: Ummm...onions is the first thing that comes to mind. In an interrogative tone. Interrogative onions?
BFB: I like it.
Bunny: And of course you have to NOT be hurt if I'm like NO ONIONS! Which places the burden on you, but hey. (Here we talk about the fact that I pretty much avoided her for most of October and all of November. She notes that she worried, while trying not to take it personally. We talk about the Celebratory Pre-Birth Event. We talk about an event where she tried to be sensitive and got shat upon, though this was mainly a miscommunication coupled with my natural tendency to be a sullen asshole.) Okay, next question. What are the experiences you feel like you missed out on because of what I was dealing with?
BFB: Well, so I missed out on the uncomplicated joy stuff. Especially because my family is also small. And I missed you, because you had to hide. And I missed not feeling like "a fertile" or whatever. I was afraid I'd lose my best friend. Thanks for being awesome.
Bunny: Any thoughts on the best and worst aspects of this experience?
BFB: Best: (a) I feel like we actually both know a lot more about each other than we would have if we hadn't had to make such a massive effort to avoid catastrophe. (b) I suspect that because I know how lucky I am, I've attended a lot more to the positive rather than the scary/disconcerting aspects of pregnancy and early parenthood. Worst: The way that your self gets all tied up with your fertility status. I hated the fact that my body could be a big alienating insensitive jerk on my behalf. You get attached to the idea that you aren't your body, you know?
Bunny: Boy do I ever. Trying to believe that is a big struggle. In fact, I'd say at the moment I don't believe it at all. But I hope someday I will, however this turns out.
BFB: I hope so too. I mean, I guess I think this: your body IS you, but you aren't your body.
Bunny: Duuuuude.
BFB: Pass the chips.
BFB: (remind me to tell you something about that in person!)
Bunny: Very well. It is about your BOWELS? I BET IT IS! So the “not feeling like a fertile”...do you think that would have happened anyway? You know, without wonderful me in your life?
BFB: Hmm. Possibly it would have happened in more galling ways, actually. I mean, so, being concerned with the way that I suddenly inhabited this particular identity category with respect to wonderful you
Bunny: OMG JARGON!
BFB: ... has pretty much completely overshadowed the bullshit I was expecting with respect to the general public. Being lumped in with "moms" or whatever. And you are you, not the general public, so it is more of a genuine, individual identity something-or-other.
Bunny: So is it like, "I'm not entirely comfortable with this identity as pregnant woman / mom, but when I look at the alternative it makes it seem less upsetting to my sense of self. Cause at least I'm not Defective Un-woman"?
BFB: RIGHT. Noooooo. It is like, "I'm not entirely comfortable with this identity as pregnant woman / mom, but frankly that cultural identity is so patently not very much to do with my real experience, as illustrated by these other identity categories that strike much closer to home."
Bunny: Hmmm... so are you saying you felt more like me than like the mommies at your birthing class or whatever? (Mommies is shorthand for women whose entire existence is defined by motherhood in a gross and boring way. No offense to those who like the term.)
BFB: Oh yes. And, I don't know, I guess I just didn't care much anymore if some idiot lumped me in with them; I cared much more about not being lumped into a group defined by being unlike you. Or something. I am doing a poor job of articulating this, sadly.
Bunny: So it was more like "I don't care if people see me as a mommy, as long as intelligent infertile women don't see me as an obnoxious bag of fecundity"?
BFB: Mm, yes! Boy, that makes me sound charming. Maybe it's because I'm not a mommy and I know it, but I'm afraid I am an obnoxious bag of fecundity.
Bunny: Well, I mean, the reality is that you are fecund, but you were never obnoxious to me. And I doubt that you were to others. So last question. Ignoring the fact that you might be uncomfortable issuing advice on this matter, any advice on how to keep a friendship strong while going through this?
BFB: I think it's been very good that both of us have talked a lot about what is going on with us, and seen each other regularly, because then an individual shitty interaction gets drowned out. And, on the flip side, as you say, both parties should ideally be very much on board with the idea that there are times when the infertile party needs to hide, and she should recognize that rather than try to fake it. And the fertile party should believe what she says. Even if occasionally the infertile party is in fact mistaken. And if the infertile party has to take solace afterwards in saying that the fertile party is fat and haggard and stupid, and her baby is funny looking, so be it! But, uh, don't let the fertile party find out that you feel that way.
Bunny: Any last thoughts?
BFB: It strikes me that, on top of everything else, I should (and do) feel really valued by the fact that you have gone to such effort to preserve our friendship. I hope you feel the same.
Bunny: I do indeed. It is perhaps not shocking that our final conclusion is: WE ROCK.
BFB: Perhaps! It is inescapable, really.
Bunny: Okay. Here's my first question. What does my experience look like from the outside? I know that’s broad, but…
BFB: Oh, wow, yeah, that is a big question. It looks like it sucks, obviously, but that's not a particularly interesting observation. One thing that I didn't really appreciate before is how crummy it is for being both punctual (you get to have a sequence of MANY individual disappointing and miserable events) and unbounded (it goes on and on and you don't know when it will stop, and in a way I guess it doesn't ever stop — you will still feel certain ways no matter how many babies you have). Okay, so that's one thing. Another is… hmm, I'm finding this hard to articulate, but it's something like how much it can trump almost anything else. It gets first dibs on your schedule and your emotions, which must be really exhausting in its own right. At the moment, I find that I'm thinking of the experience as something separate from you that kind of assaults you. That's probably not right. But I'm trying to say that I'm impressed that you remain so much YOU while dealing with all this shit, and also that it seems pretty clear that it's something that can take up a lot of your sense of self. Ugh. Does that make any sense at all?
Bunny: Sure! Although on that last point, I'm not sure I believe you. I feel like a very different person. My sense of self has taken a real hit. Sometimes maybe I just pretend to be me. You know, 'cause gelatinous weeping person is less interesting to be around.
BFB: Well, don't we all. I'll always love you, my gelatinous blob friend. But yeah, that seems like a really hard part of it — keeping a sense of yourself aside from Being Infertile, or whatever. Also, I was really struck by what you said the other day about how it's hard to connect all the procedures to the desired outcome anymore. Oh, it's just this thing I do, having abdominal surgery and being wretched. It's my hobby!
Bunny: I think those are some good observations. Either you're astute or I've just been very clear about the sucky aspects. Some infertile women feel that their fertile friends don't understand how much it absorbs every moment of their existence, is all they think about, CAN'T be pushed aside... etc.
BFB: Well, you are articulate! Also, we've made a real effort to actually see each other often, which probably helps.
Bunny: So you said "didn't really appreciate before". I think before I had this experience I thought infertility (IF) only happened to sad losers with low sperm count. I was astonished at the lengths people went to in order to get pregnant. I was an ignorant, insensitive asshole. What was your prior experience?
BFB: Well, before we actually started trying to conceive, I'd been reading a few blogs by women dealing with infertility. Partly just because they were smart and funny, and partly because I had this idea that I should be prepared for the possibility. Soooo, on the one hand that helped to preempt some ignorant notions I might have formed. But on the other it has made me unfortunately hyper-aware and twitchy about how people think about "fertiles".
Bunny: Oh, I bet.
BFB: And so, quite aside from interacting with you and your specific experience, I've sometimes oscillated between feeling defensive (I'm not "a fertile"! People who have babies aren't necessarily ungrateful cows, even if they are ambivalent or sad!) and feeling like I am in no position to get to feel defensive about anything.
Bunny: Yeah, I think that's perfectly understandable. The whole ingroup / outgroup dynamic is unfortunate. Though also necessary.
BFB: It is, but… exactly.
Bunny: We could have a long conversation about it, but it would probably get really academic.
BFB: Ha, yes, I was just thinking the very same thing. I guess the other thing I want to say on that same topic is that one thing that has made me sad is the sense that fertility seems to give me automatic lifetime status as a Fortunate Person, which I certainly am, in more ways than just that! But… it means that I don't feel entitled to look for much in the way of sympathy when things aren't perfect. Which, whatever, it's probably good for me to get over myself sometimes. And I can always cry at Mr. BFB. This dynamic isn't something I particularly attribute to you, by the way. It's just there.
Bunny: Sure, I can see how that would be the case. I've felt something a little similar in that I've got this cushy job... Do you think that would have been less of an issue if you hadn't been reading IF blogs? You know, if you'd kept yourself more ignorant?
BFB: Maybe! Although it's not like I wouldn't have been able to see that you are right there having a FUCKING MISERABLE time. But, yeah, I probably wouldn't be quite as aware that pretty much everyone agrees that infertility misery completely trumps things like "I lack career success." On the other hand, then I would be even more of a dink than I am, so there's that.
Bunny: Except actually very few people agree that IF misery trumps other things, it would appear. Mainly they're like Why don't you just adopt? Even nice people like Mutual Friend. So I think you somehow managed to arrive at a pretty enlightened view. Moving on. So you'd been reading these blogs...what was it like when you learned I was ONE OF THEM?
BFB: It was like OH SHIT SHE'LL HATE ME FOREVER IF I GET PREGNANT.
Bunny: Which I obviously do and will.
BFB: QED.
Bunny: Okay, so next question.
BFB: And later I was jealous that now you had Internet Friends of your own that I won't know.
Bunny: Seriously? But you've always had YOUR internet friends!
BFB: I know! It's stupid.
Bunny: I think it's sweet. So how much time do / did you spend worrying about my feelings? Either when you were pregnant or now? And if that number is greater than zero, what are some of the specific things you’ve worried about saying or doing?
BFB: Oh my god. I spend loads of time worrying about your feelings! Here are things I have worried about: Upsetting you with my mere presence. Nattering on about myself and my baby. Forgetting to ask how things are going, or asking when you want to think about something else. Overstepping my bounds in acting like I know about IF, both all its glorious technical details and its emotional valences. Taking the wrong attitude with respect to when vs. if you get pregnant. Comparing your experience to something else — which you would think would be simple enough to JUST AVOID, and yet it's a very common conversational strategy. Oh! And finally, and this is a big one, making you feel like I am tiptoeing around something in a way that would make you feel hurt and sad, while also not just gratuitously talking about things that rub your nose in feeling hurt and sad.
Bunny: Things as in pregnancy things you were experiencing?
BFB: Yeah. I think mostly I've just erred on the side of telling you about everything.
Bunny: Yeah, and I have (at least, I think I have) tended to ask.
BFB: You have!
Bunny: You've said you're interested in hearing about what I’m going through, and I believe you. But you don't always ask. So if you’re not asking about it, is it more likely that you're not interested at the moment (because no one can be interested in one topic at all times) or is it more likely that you’re not sure if I want to talk?
BFB: The latter. Sometimes people want to natter about other stuff when they're sad (Mr. BFB, especially, which probably has trained me in this direction) and I don't always see the right conversational opening. But I can ask more if that would feel better for you. However, it really is the case that I would ALWAYS like to know.
Bunny: I think you should feel free to ask. (It's very weird to me that Mr. BFB would rather talk about other things when he's sad. CRAZY! I wonder if Mr. Bunny it the same! It doesn't seem like it, but it would explain some exchanges...) I think it's one of those things where I feel like I'm burdening you if I bring it up and you worry about me not wanting to talk about it, so you're denied my fascinating stories about fascinating me, and I feel...I dunno...unsupported. Not that I'm saying I feel unsupported, which I don't, except to the extent that you can't possibly support me. We just need a code word that sums up the whole I want to hear if you want to talk biznazz.
BFB: We totally do.
Bunny: Ummm...onions is the first thing that comes to mind. In an interrogative tone. Interrogative onions?
BFB: I like it.
Bunny: And of course you have to NOT be hurt if I'm like NO ONIONS! Which places the burden on you, but hey. (Here we talk about the fact that I pretty much avoided her for most of October and all of November. She notes that she worried, while trying not to take it personally. We talk about the Celebratory Pre-Birth Event. We talk about an event where she tried to be sensitive and got shat upon, though this was mainly a miscommunication coupled with my natural tendency to be a sullen asshole.) Okay, next question. What are the experiences you feel like you missed out on because of what I was dealing with?
BFB: Well, so I missed out on the uncomplicated joy stuff. Especially because my family is also small. And I missed you, because you had to hide. And I missed not feeling like "a fertile" or whatever. I was afraid I'd lose my best friend. Thanks for being awesome.
Bunny: Any thoughts on the best and worst aspects of this experience?
BFB: Best: (a) I feel like we actually both know a lot more about each other than we would have if we hadn't had to make such a massive effort to avoid catastrophe. (b) I suspect that because I know how lucky I am, I've attended a lot more to the positive rather than the scary/disconcerting aspects of pregnancy and early parenthood. Worst: The way that your self gets all tied up with your fertility status. I hated the fact that my body could be a big alienating insensitive jerk on my behalf. You get attached to the idea that you aren't your body, you know?
Bunny: Boy do I ever. Trying to believe that is a big struggle. In fact, I'd say at the moment I don't believe it at all. But I hope someday I will, however this turns out.
BFB: I hope so too. I mean, I guess I think this: your body IS you, but you aren't your body.
Bunny: Duuuuude.
BFB: Pass the chips.
BFB: (remind me to tell you something about that in person!)
Bunny: Very well. It is about your BOWELS? I BET IT IS! So the “not feeling like a fertile”...do you think that would have happened anyway? You know, without wonderful me in your life?
BFB: Hmm. Possibly it would have happened in more galling ways, actually. I mean, so, being concerned with the way that I suddenly inhabited this particular identity category with respect to wonderful you
Bunny: OMG JARGON!
BFB: ... has pretty much completely overshadowed the bullshit I was expecting with respect to the general public. Being lumped in with "moms" or whatever. And you are you, not the general public, so it is more of a genuine, individual identity something-or-other.
Bunny: So is it like, "I'm not entirely comfortable with this identity as pregnant woman / mom, but when I look at the alternative it makes it seem less upsetting to my sense of self. Cause at least I'm not Defective Un-woman"?
BFB: RIGHT. Noooooo. It is like, "I'm not entirely comfortable with this identity as pregnant woman / mom, but frankly that cultural identity is so patently not very much to do with my real experience, as illustrated by these other identity categories that strike much closer to home."
Bunny: Hmmm... so are you saying you felt more like me than like the mommies at your birthing class or whatever? (Mommies is shorthand for women whose entire existence is defined by motherhood in a gross and boring way. No offense to those who like the term.)
BFB: Oh yes. And, I don't know, I guess I just didn't care much anymore if some idiot lumped me in with them; I cared much more about not being lumped into a group defined by being unlike you. Or something. I am doing a poor job of articulating this, sadly.
Bunny: So it was more like "I don't care if people see me as a mommy, as long as intelligent infertile women don't see me as an obnoxious bag of fecundity"?
BFB: Mm, yes! Boy, that makes me sound charming. Maybe it's because I'm not a mommy and I know it, but I'm afraid I am an obnoxious bag of fecundity.
Bunny: Well, I mean, the reality is that you are fecund, but you were never obnoxious to me. And I doubt that you were to others. So last question. Ignoring the fact that you might be uncomfortable issuing advice on this matter, any advice on how to keep a friendship strong while going through this?
BFB: I think it's been very good that both of us have talked a lot about what is going on with us, and seen each other regularly, because then an individual shitty interaction gets drowned out. And, on the flip side, as you say, both parties should ideally be very much on board with the idea that there are times when the infertile party needs to hide, and she should recognize that rather than try to fake it. And the fertile party should believe what she says. Even if occasionally the infertile party is in fact mistaken. And if the infertile party has to take solace afterwards in saying that the fertile party is fat and haggard and stupid, and her baby is funny looking, so be it! But, uh, don't let the fertile party find out that you feel that way.
Bunny: Any last thoughts?
BFB: It strikes me that, on top of everything else, I should (and do) feel really valued by the fact that you have gone to such effort to preserve our friendship. I hope you feel the same.
Bunny: I do indeed. It is perhaps not shocking that our final conclusion is: WE ROCK.
BFB: Perhaps! It is inescapable, really.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Do you ever forget what it's all for?
Lately I've been feeling strangely detached about the whole baby thing. The notion of an actual child has become extremely remote and abstract. I still hate pregnant women (not you guys, of course, regular pregnant women), but there's a kind of weariness to it. I still find it unpleasant to be around BFB's baby, but not in any visceral way, more in the way that I don't enjoy attending boring meetings. I still want the whole pregnancy-birth-motherhood package, but not with the same desperation--more in the way I want to get tenure or finish saving my yard from that incredibly invasive weed that's sprung up everywhere. You know, long term projects that I can't do much about at the moment. I'm not sure what's up. It could be the months of waiting behind me or the months of waiting ahead of me, or some combination of the two. I might be exhausted from all the hoping and disappointment. Or I might be trying to distance myself from the whole situation, to make the waiting easier or to protect myself from the despair I'll feel when I don't get that miraculous Instant Pregnancy (just add...well, not exactly water) in August. Maybe I'm realizing that even if I do get solidly, safely pregnant, my life will still have its imperfections. I wasn't a sunny person before this, and I won't be after, even if things go my way. Maybe these drugs are just blunting my emotions. I dunno. Anyone else go through periods where it's an effort to remember what it is you're even working towards?
Recovery notes for Gurlee: For the past few days I've been down to one oxy + 600 mg ibuprofen combos in the morning, one around 2 pm and one before I go to bed. Still no real pain to speak of. Today I skipped my morning oxy (just took the ibuprofen) and waked to work (about a mile). I will probably put in a couple hours of low key catching up stuff.
Recovery notes for Gurlee: For the past few days I've been down to one oxy + 600 mg ibuprofen combos in the morning, one around 2 pm and one before I go to bed. Still no real pain to speak of. Today I skipped my morning oxy (just took the ibuprofen) and waked to work (about a mile). I will probably put in a couple hours of low key catching up stuff.
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