Apparently, I ain't so angry anymore. Just frustrated.
And even that's kinda waning. Not waning like I'm NOT frustrated, just waning like the end of this round didn't bring as many tears as usual, as many hours of pity parties as usual, or as many hours of bitching and moaning as usual. Instead, a few tears, a little conversation with the husband (to gripe), and a fabulous bottle of wine with him before he left - and whammo, we're onto IUI#3 and Round #23 of this bullshit.
Probably doesn't hurt that I indulged my inner fat girl this morning - I really miss that bitch sometimes, so much so that this morning I decided it was time to bring her ONNNNN OUTTTTT. This morning she was allowed a Coke and a 100calorie Cadbury's Thin (dark) - for BREAKFAST! That bitch was SO HAPPY, she even danced a little like Monica (off Friends) when she'd wear the fat suit and shake that great big booty.
Anyway, I guess where I'm going is that while this all still FUCKING SUCKS, I ain't where I was during rounds 7-14 - what I fondly like to refer to as the "Psycho Months". And if there's ANYTHING to take out of another failed cycle, it's realizing that all this endless failure SURE IS teaching me how to SUCK at things, but how to suck at things WITHOUT killing anyone!
Cuz during those months, I really REALLY had moments where I thought SOMEONE was gonna have to die. Well, not die, that sounds worse than it was, but someone was gonna have to suffer. For example, I had really REALLY shameful thoughts about poking pregnant women in the belly with big sticks just to watch their bellies deflate and laugh, "ha ha, now the joke's on YOU". And I had them OFTEN. Or, I had ZERO patience for the endless pregnancy announcements and ultrasound pictures being circulated at work by those who didn't EARN those fucking bellies and pictures - to the point where I think I was referring to anyone even ASSOCIATED with a pregnancy (men AND women) as the "C" word.
Yet now, approaching Round #23, I'm just annoyed with all non-earned pregnancy. And even that annoyance, well, it's just "rolling the eyes, get me another drink" annoyed, which on the scale of my annoyed levels, is pretty damn light. I still don't APPRECIATE that all the pregnant women in this city feel the need to CONGREGATE wherever I go, but meh, oh well, that's what they do right?
Well, while all you pregnant bitches watch where I'll be next using your fancy schmancy infertiledar, I'll be spreading my legs for yet another stranger... and honestly, when I put it like THAT, it sure SOUNDS like I'm having more fun than those bitches.
- chicklet
- The miscellaneous spurts and blurbs of a [formerly infertile] new mama, living by the beach, with a husband who makes her laugh almost every single day.
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14 comments:
Do you think we get used to the disappointment? Or is it just another coping mechinism? I've thought a lot about these two ideas and can't settle on which one is right. Maybe they're both right.
I had a nice belly laugh with the Monica image! And yes, I've blurted out the C word many o' times (and I usually reserve that word for special occasions).
Sometimes mental imagery is the best kind of coping mechanism. It just feels damn good!
I hope you and hubby had a nice evening together last night!
Maybe 23 will be the charm?
I have had to bite my tongue on more than a few occasions from saying something incedibly bitchy to the overly fertile people of the world.
here's to wishing that iUi #3 is the positive pee stick
I could not identify with you more on this post. I frequently use the c word (in my mind, usually) when referencing the endless number of pregnant people I am forced to encounter daily. But I've taken to calling them bitches out loud as of late, as to me they are--All smug with their perfect little bumps. ARGH! Makes me want to drink...more than I have been as of late.
Again, I'm hoping that the 3rd time will be a charm for you. Lord knows you DESERVE IT! :)
It does sound like you are having too much fun - way more fun than them.
Good luck tomorrow with the new stranger.
Your inner fat girl is my OUTER Fat girl. For dinner I had a twix bar AND a mint 3 Musketeers...and I can't even blame it on Clomid, Follistim, or a good ol' round of PMS....
It was cycle number 24 for me. Not that it will help any, just putting that out there.
My inner fat girl is sooooo wanting that chocolate bar in your avatar.
Ha! That last line is absolutely priceless! I am so with you with the "earned pregnancies". I feel like we have paid our dues and some women get to ride for free. NOT FAIR! Glad to hear you are 'coming to terms' with things. I feel your numbing pain...
Your closer here made me laugh out loud. Never quite thought of it that way, but boy do I ever feel like a, well, a minx all of the sudden ;-)
Hang in there Chicklet. There's a special place in hell for those who torment infertiles.
I'm still thinking good thoughts for you, Chicklet. Not that my thoughts are worth much.. I can't even get MYSELF pregnant.. but they're yours if you want them!
Oh you make me laugh! You have quite the way with words! However, I am glad to see that you are ready to get back in the saddle again.
So I'm not the only one who thinks about poking them in the belly with sticks (or similar)? I once had a random/evil thought about marketing a pregnant woman punching bag - to a very select audience, of course, but I was convinced I would sell some to people in a similar mindset. Hang in there! I have to believe that the first shall be last and the last shall be first one day! Hopefully sooner than later...
I'm so sorry about this cycle. I was so hoping for a different outcome and I just want to send X's and O's your way.
My inner fat chick is craving some ice cream. I think I may indulge her myself since I can't seem to O. Not that I need an excuse for a sweet tooth.
I'm sending all my love your way. I hope the fertile congregation leaves you the hell alone for a long time. It seems like they take over, doesn't it?
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