Before I launch into my newest IF-related diatribe, I thought I'd mention that re: my last post about Young Martha, it has occurred to me that she might be one of us. She's been married for at least 2 years now, and as someone who wanted to drive her 8 kids around in a minivan it's suspect that she has not yet spawned. Additionally, there is weight gain. Even if she is a member of the hypercool, ultratrendy IFers 4 Lyf club, I still don't like her. So there.
Onto the matter at hand...because my attempt at writing my project failed miserably, I was cajoled by The Dude to submit an extenuating circumstances form, citing my mystery, most likely Metformin-related illness which unconveniently stuck around for the wrong month of the year. Adding to that the failed and final IUI, and it was just a bad time all round.
When I was filling in the form, I had to use the word "infertility" and it felt wrong. Not that I'm still coming to terms with being ovulatorily shortchanged, but sharing it with strangers made me feel shameful and defensive. Shameful because I hate talking about infertility outside the blog and The Dude. Defensive because I know the form will be looked at and queried. No doubt it will be assessed by Smug Fertiles, or alternatively the Contented Childless. I don't imagine there will be an Emotionally Ravaged Infertile present to weigh in on the matter.
People that have not experienced infertility, whether firsthand or indirectly by way of close friends/relatives, tend to be so blase and infuriatingly patronising about infertility that I don't think my explanation of my poor performance will be taken seriously. It's funny that something that is so central to our lives is diminished so much by people outside the IF circle. I felt as if I had to write a page long explanation as to how very all-consuming infertility, and in this particular case, the side effects of the related medications, truly is. To think we wonder where all the bitterness comes from...
Veering completely off topic now, my Cheese Queen Molly tagged me to do this:
THE RULES:
1. Go into your archive.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag five people to do the same
I said this: "In reality, I think I'm massively unprepared despite the great lengths I'm going to in order to make it happen."
Such a boring sentence, especially as most of my blog posts are feeble attempts at being humorous. The post itself was centred around my questions concerning my suitability as a potential mother, doubts that I still have. I mean, I only wrote that in February of last year, so of course not much has changed. However, this exercise did make me realise that my early blogging is cringeworthy.
I'm going to totally not play along, as I will not tag anyone. Ha. Mainly because I think all of the people that read/comment here have already done it and I'm too lazy to really research who has and hasn't. I can't help it. I'm an infertile, and we are all selfish, drug-addled she beasts that just need to relax.
4 comments:
It's funny, but for me, using the word 'infertile' or 'infertility' is somewhat liberating. I know the first time I called to make an appointment (for an HSG) and when they asked why i was doing it is stuttered 'infertility' it was scarry, and i hung up and cried my heart out. But then I realized I can wear it like a badge of honor. It gives me a tribe, a people, a team. Turns out our infertility is male factor, but it's still our family, and I still have to play the game, so hell yeah, i'm still an infertile. I had to get the freaking ass shots, didn't I?
However, there is such grief in letting others know, there is shame that i had to overcome, and judgement. My own, and the judgement I perceived (real or not) from others. ANd then there is the pity. (that's what I hate most of all... the fucking pity).
Anyway.. for me it's be come a badge of honor, I wear my bruises, bloat and scars with pride. Because when we finally overcome (and WE SHALL OVERCOME) ... i will carry that small child in my arms, and they will also wear a badge of honor.. it will be a onsie that says "I was worth the wait".
Ok, now I made myself cry. ;)
I wrote a bit about this topic today and how it relates to the new show/craphole "Inconceievable." Someday -- someday -- infertility will not be such a dark, closeted topic.
And for what it's worth, I don't like Martha either. (Wait until young Martha starts her own infertility blog and stumbles across yours. Oops. Ahh, well, she'll probably stay away, due to fowl language, and go back to baby dusting herself.)
That thought about young martha occurred to me too. I do hate to be snarky about one of us, even if she is of the babydust variety.
And you are way too hard on yourself about your writing. Even in a hysterically funny post, there must be some mundane sentences. Go look at ovagirl's stuff (who is, after all, a writer). I bet you can find a few duds.
In the stages of mourning my fertility, I am afraid I am stuck squarely in denial right now. I rarely use the "infertility" word. I just don't want to admit it yet. Yes, I have been unable to get pregnant despite medical interventions for almost 2 years, but since no one can find any reason why, I prefer to think of myself as unlucky.
Truth is, I agree with Korin, when someone can give me a real diagnosis I think it will be incredibly liberating. I need a push to move off of this plateau.
Also, because I bet I'm even lazier than you, I'll just post the 5th sentence of my 23rd post right here. I'm sure you'll feel better about your own:
(Continued attention...I'm on a roll!)
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