Yesterday I wrote a bit about an infertility story line in a TV show. I wrote it so fast and my mind was just not working correctly so I’m pretty sure that what I wrote came out as barely comprehensible word vomit. I’m hoping to expand a little bit on the subject in this post.
I wish my life were like a TV show, the type of sitcom where everything gets resolved in a few half hour episodes. Where people are beautiful and everything somehow magically works out in the end. Life isn’t like that though, it never has been and it never will be. It would be easier though, I wouldn’t have to stress about the possibility of never or of trying to figure out how we are going to pay for something that people are just supposed to be able to “do”.
I watched a show where a couple struggled for a bit to have a baby before being successful, I watched it and saw the scenes that were supposed to be emotional (and cried) and the scenes that were supposed to be funny (and cried). None of it was funny though, it was like venturing through the uncanny valley lugging my emotional baggage behind me. My husband and I sat on the couch in silence, neither of us wanted to be the first person to point it out or bring it up. I finally broke the silence by pointing out the stupidity of how a pregnancy test process was presented.
It also made me think back to earlier this week. The hubs and I are not the most social of butterflies – we tend to stay at home and prefer spending time together. The only real friends we have is a couple P&N. P has been my best friend for about 14 years, we met when we were college freshman and him and I worked at a grocery store together. He’s seriously one of the greatest guys I’ve ever met in my life and his wife N is completely amazing. We all four truly enjoy each others company, dinner & board game nights tend to be our favorite activity to do together. The hubs and I have always been very forthcoming about our infertility journey and this is especially true with P&N. N is finishing up her schooling and they are hoping to start a family in the next two years, however here lately she has expressed some concern over how long it might take them or if they will have issues conceiving naturally. There is nothing in her cycles to make her think this, the only reason she worries about it is because they have bore witness to our struggle. This breaks my heart. I want to tell her “oh, you have nothing to worry about”, but every time I go to tell her that I can’t bring myself to do so. Even though it is very likely that they will have no issues what so ever, I know that it is a possibility – it is always a possibility. I HATE having this knowledge, I HATE that my issues have made her worry about their chances. I’ve always said that it would be so much easier if my mind was just full of rainbows, bunnies and unicorn farts instead of the crap that clogs it up currently – it’s more true than ever. My worry has infected someone else, and I hate that. When they decide to start trying and are able to be successful I know that they are going to be such amazing parents and I’m hoping that our IVF works and they have no conception issues and our children will then be able to grow up together. My husband and I have been denied so many things in our journey to have children, I would like this one little thing to be a possibility.
So whether it’s watching a TV show that deals (not always accurately) with infertility or talking with a friend, it’s the knowledge that gets me. It’s being a quasi-expert on a subject I wish I didn’t have to know shit about. I wish I could have watched those episodes last night and laughed where I was supposed to laugh and feel sad where I was supposed to feel sad. I wish I could have coffee with a friend and talk about what we are going to name our kids without feeling that nagging “what-if”.
“Oh, it’s a little bit of everything,
It’s the matador and the bull,
It’s the suggested daily dosage,
It is the red moon when it’s full.
All these psychics and these doctors,
They’re all right and they’re all wrong,
It’s like trying to make out every word,
When they should simply hum along,
It’s not some message written in the dark,
Or some truth that no one’s seen,
It’s a little bit of everything.”