My Busted Stork

The travails of an infertile…and no, I won’t just relax!

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Claws out

PMS is such a cliché, but it’s an unavoidable truth. What is a minor irritation normally becomes a rage that I cannot contain. I can’t let it go – I need to act on it, I need to express myself. This is usually aimed at W, the poor sod. But sometimes it is aimed at my friends. It goes from a niggle to claws out in 30seconds flat. And when you are an infertile your period is even more of a thorn in your side. So yes, I am using this as my excuse for wanting to claw the eyes out of a friend of mine. (I even sound premenstrual in the written word!)

She is pregnant with her 3rd child and cannot refrain from endless moaning on Facebook. It’s the heartburn and the sore hips and the cankles and the tiredness, like she is the most afflicted woman in the history of mammals gestating. Every time I log on it’s there. Plus she keeps on sending me inane messages like “How are you”. What she is wanting from me is for me to make her feel special by opening up to her about what I am going through at the moment. Maybe it is unfair for me to say she doesn’t care but I feel like she wants the juicy details of my pain. Any horrific or tragic story has her beating down the door to “be there” for the person and I feel it is gratuitous.

So I sent her an email and told her so. I tried to sound fair. But I also had to add an extra little passive-aggressive “your heartburn and swollen ankles are my dreams at the moment”. This is not me. I don’t really talk like this, ever. But I wanted her to squirm. Haven’t heard back yet but I am hoping I didn’t open pandora’s box. Believe it or not I don’t want to fight…

I am relishing the PMS this month because as soon as the period arrives then it is back onto that bicycle. We are doing our FET (Frozen Embryo Transfer) round this cycle. We have 4 of the little blighters. We joke about if any of them become children how much fun we will have knowing they were chilling in an icebox for a while.

This time round I am going into full defensive mode. The walls are coming up, I am not telling anyone and I want to be in robot mode just going through the motions without thinking or feeling ANYTHING. I AM ROBOT!



I hate Facebook pregnancy announcements!

We have all experienced the hell, the hate, the dark black misery that comes from Facebook pregnancy announcements. All kinds of people from people with PCOS (that has never had her period!) to underage (try18?) to overage (oh, look! I’m 45 and we just had an oops!) to people we hate (read “I stole your boyfriend at varsity but bad karma won’t touch me because guess what…)

This is a great post from Yolk about the awful ways in which people infiltrate our day with this special form of hurt.

One of the comments asks why can’t we be happy for people who announce their pregnancy on Facebook. I agree that we need to realise that our hell is not a reality for most others. But to be able to bitch about it to people who understand is our reality and our right.

We all know that it’s very hard when friends say they are pregnant. I think from living “in the infertile closet” so long I have learnt to put on a brave face and smile through it. And even now when I am being more honest about my feelings I still have a sense that a friend has every right to want me to share her joy, otherwise am I really a friend? But then the other half of me says that she has the happiness which doesn’t depend on hurting me – she will be happily pregnant without my joy. This is still something I am grappling with.

I am quite a Facebook sharer but have never openly admitted to being infertile on FB. I hate the pity and all the crap that comes with it. Besides the many negative outcomes from announcing it I also have horrible visions of my ex boyfriend breathing a sigh of relief that we didn’t end up together (he has 3 little boys now but luckily all of them are very bad sleepers. He he!).

But one thing I do know is that I will be announcing my pregnancy (if it ever happens) on FB. I will disclaim it with the big reveal of the X number of years we have been trying. And I will wait until I am in the 2nd trimester. And I know that all my friends will be happy for me, even my TTC ones.

Until then I will have to try and breezily ignore all those silly ultrasound pics and pics of growing bumps.

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Detox challenge 1: Girls night blues

So last night was fun! Or not so much.

Every month a group of my girl friends get together for dinner. One of us chooses a restaurant and we try new places every month.

I am usually the one who is loudly talking about my sex life while quaffing down a bottle of wine or 2.  I do this for 2 reasons. Firstly, that’s who I am (expressive, loud) and secondly because I try and keep things light, breezy and fun because believe me, if I don’t then things become desperate. I love my friends BUT (I seem to be saying that a lot) they can get so stuck on the details of mundane life. We are all in our early 30s so obviously there is going to be talk about husbands, and children and buying houses and mother-in-laws etc but is there really the need to talk about maids, and the price of vegetables, and cleaning products and…toothbrushes! Yes, last night we had a 30 minute conversation on toothbrushes and flossing. Do you know how excruciating that was without wine?

But that wasn’t all. Later on I felt that I wanted to bitch and moan a little bit just to try and be me. So I was going on about how being on detox makes me feel like I have nothing left to look forward to, like boozy lunches by the sea, or watching rugby or games of 30 seconds. I was only sort of getting into my bitching session when a friend of mine says “Well, I don’t know what you are whining about, I did it for 9 months while I was pregnant and it was fine.” (!) The knee jerk reaction was to head butt her in the face. But I managed to keep my cool long enough to say that she had a reason for not drinking, like the health and wellbeing of her unborn baby, something which I have not had the pleasure of experiencing yet. But I didn’t want to get into the infertility thing again. I always come out of those conversations feeling even more depressed than going into them as invariably people will end up saying hurtful things and I will just have to take it to keep the peace.

We ended off the evening with chatting about our friend who was absent because she is hugely pregnant and can hardly move. There was lots of deep statements like “Wow, she is on the brink of such a life changing experience” and all of that. By this time I was seriously blue and sober and so over it all. Thinking of this friend just brought up so much envy and desperation that the evening ended on a really bad note for me.

I am finding myself slowly but surely alienating myself from the friends who I know just don’t understand. These are not only the obvious moms or moms-to-be but also those friends who are not yet trying and that its all ahead of them. That doesn’t leave too many people. For someone that has always been surrounded by loads of friends the world is becoming a little lonely for this infertile.