I’ve laid low from writing for the last week or two. There’s no real reason for this, mainly just time slipping by during this chunk of time known as “waiting to get going.” I am in week 3 (of 4) on birth control and have now added androderm patches (testosterone) and estradiol pills (estrogen) to the mix for priming.
Mostly these weeks are filled with “just keep chill” tactics…..knitting, movies, walking the dog….I’ve hit up some museums. I work freelance so there’s been some of that as well, and I’ve doing quite a bit of teaching lately. Time is passing.
I’m in a 6-week fertility support group that’s been great. In this week’s meeting we talked about belonging – what that means to us, where do we feel we do/don’t belong, how can we belong where we very much want to but can’t quite yet: namely, the motherhood club. Thank goodness for the mental and emotional prep because Friday was a real “in-your-face” day on the matter of my lack-of-baby.
On the 2-hour ride to a gig, one of the guys announced that he and his wife are 20 weeks pregnant with twins. I was happy for him but likely not as excited as I’d have been before all this. He didn’t go on about it, just wanted us to know, he’s a good guy, it’s their second pregnancy inside of 2 years and I’m happy for him. But then one of the gals in the car WOULDN’T STOP ASKING HIM QUESTIONS ABOUT IT!!!!! So I had to listen and listen and listen to pregnancy talk.
Not in the club.
On the way back from the gig, the three women I was with all started talking about their sons. This alone is totally fine, until it’s been an hour and you realize you’ve likely only been saying things like “yeah?” and “oh no” and “that sounds like fun” for a really long time because YOU HAVE NOTHING FIRSTHAND TO CONTRIBUTE TO THE CONVERSATION.
Not in the club.
Later that evening, my hubbo and I went to a housewarming party. Amidst the mingling, my hubbo told me that some friends of ours have started telling people they’re pregnant. He knew this would be hard for me to hear, so he pulled the band-aid off super fast by telling me straight out and then saying he was sorry. They got married a year ago and because I saw her after their honeymoon (which was early summer) and she was bummed not to be pregnant with a “honeymoon baby,” I think they were likely only trying for about 6-8 months. 6-8 months. NORMAL PEOPLE GETTING PREGNANT TIME.
Not in the club.
Needless to say I was pretty down by day’s end, no doubt because it felt like the universe just kept putting difficult things in my path for me to deal with. This can feel like a real “Fuck You” if that’s how you choose to look at it. I can try to be as positive as possible but some days it just all hits at once and it’s tough. I want what I want and I don’t have it yet….and it’s crappy that I have to have everyone else getting what I want shoved up in my face place. It’s just hard to deal with and keep a sunny outlook….because it’s unrealistic to be happy all the G D time. It’s not possible. Sometimes you just gotta let things get a little cloudy for a smidge and then move on.
Luckily, along with the great support group, I’ve been reading a book called Life Magic by Laura Bushnell. The book gives alot of guidance as to how you can let go of fear and worry and instead keep an open heart, see possibility and create positive change for yourself. In the end I was able to at least take some deep breaths, express to my hubbo that I was feeling a bit sad, and then fall asleep on the couch with my head on the dog.
And that leads us to today when I taught an improv workshop to some teenagers. They were pretty great and had some experience so I was able to do more than just some beginner stuff with them. We laughed alot and had a great time and if you’re ever in a bad place and need to pick yourself up, go do or experience some improv. My residual funkiness was gone almost immediately.
Anyway, the kids come into the theatre, we talk for maybe 2-3 minutes and I ask them to join me onstage and form a big circle. They got into the circle and I began to get them warmed up and focussed….and suddenly a girl bends over and yorks all over the stage. Just boots. Luckily there were chaperones with the group to a) help get sick girl backstage to the bathroom and b) clean up what had just been inside of sick girl, so I was able to move the other 16 kids to one side of the stage and keep going. I immediately asked if anyone was going to rebarf due to the initial barf (I’ve seen Stand By Me, I know the possibilities) and they laughed it off and we went forward.
So while yesterday was a rough day of dealing with some tough stuff, today I rallied a class post barf and we went on to have a great time.
I call it a win.
Aging Baby Maker 