I left something out last night in writing my miserablist post, for good reason. I got in my head that I could be pregnant, so I had the added pressure of the test-or-not-to-test situation. Being cynical old me, despite the physical signs which were to the letter echoed in a post by a newly pregnant blogger, I already anticipated a negative.
Life is never to fail in its disappointment, so when I tested this morning, I was met with a rather forceful "Not pregnant" on the pg test screen. Whose bright idea was it to get something which puts my failure into words for me? As if the lack of a second line isn't enough, I need the cruel truth glaring at me in text form.
The three of you who are still following my blogshite will know that this is the only month that we have been trying as such. Can you imagine the luxury and bold taunting of fate which would be involved in a natural conception within the first month of trying? Haha! Clearly one of the side effects of Celexa is delusions.
My issues with a prospective pregnancy are manifold, but the gist is this - failure is the story of my life right now. Can't get a job? Check. Can't reproduce? Check. Can't manage to get your husband a Visa because you are either a fucktard or don't make enough money or possibly a fucktard who doesn't make enough money? Check. I know it's my hypersensitivity talking, but when things are shit, it seems its opposites slap you in the face everyday. Other people are getting jobs in the fields they want; my absolutely clueless manager maintains her job easily, thus depriving me of a position that may actually get me the jobs I'm trying to get; others' fecundity is suddenly very obvious to me again, just like the old days.
I've posted before about how proud I was to have left Infertile Bitter Old Crone territory, but I've found myself swiftly back in there, after ONE MONTH. I guess my departure from the club was only ever going to be temporary. You think you have it bad having to read all of my moaning - pity The Dude. He has to put up with me moping, crying, and being all woe is me day in and day out. Oy.
I've saved another aspect of my immense daily failures for another post - friendships and consideration for other bloggers. That post will feature tumbleweeds rolling by, as the whole point of the post will be how I totally suck at supporting other people, and a byproduct of this failure is that the smart ones aren't bothered with me anymore anyway.
Jesus - THE MISERY. Is 7.45am too early for a non-drinker to start on the hard stuff? Insert your eyerolls here; I sooooo deserve it.
15 comments:
A) it's never too early to be miserabe.
B) secondary infertility sucks big fat hairy bollocks.
C) do you have a financial sponsor? My mom was our sponsor (even though she had already retired!)
D) the American embassy is one of the ugliest buildings anywhere, ever.
People are getting JOBS??!! Where is this magical, mystical land? Is it always sunny and 70 and rainbows abound? (Is there a public health option there too?)
Never too early to put a sip of prosecco in the OJ. Or spike the coffee.
I think the thing with infertility is that it coils its way around everything else in your life. So it may not be this particular month or this particular test, but now that it's invasive and you're just sitting there wondering how to get the roots out, it pops up again and hurts like a mofo. Like you said, the failure seems to pile on even though technically it should be in a different box. Fat chance.
Take it easy on yourself, at least for a few hours today. No one I know is getting a job or making enough $ and it has nothing to do with them.
Not sure if I should hug you or slap you. Slap you not for feeling down, but for feeling guilty about feeling down. Things suck, it's okay to feel sad. Let yourself. The IF thing, I don't think it's ever completely gone. I still have strange moments of reacting (inside) when someone tells me they got pregnant their first month trying, or that they think they'll start trying again in November because they want a baby in late summer.
well it fucking sucks that the test sticks are all up in your face. ugh.
I have been thinking of you and hoping like a mofo for this month.
wish we could huddle together and sip on mimosas until it was a decent enough hour to sip on something stronger. maybe we need to spike some fondue of something...
That is EXACTLY why I don't buy the digital tests. It's like they're taunting you.
You're not a failure, honey. You have a lot of crap piling up right now but that doesn't define you. Sorry things are so shitty--big hugs.
That's the problem with multiple slaps in the face. In the end, they hurt as much and leave as big a bruise as one big punch. You have officially had a Shitty Week. Be sweet to yourself.
Ahh, infertility, the gift that keeps on giving. Even after you've BEGGED it to just, please, stop.
Perhaps the digital sticks should say 'I'm sorry, sweetheart' instead.
Let's hope after an bad to awful range of events, comes a long row of good to excellent events.
And yes, trying again will do that to you.
Duuuude. Cut yourself some slack, will ya! You've got about 5,000,000 stressors piling on you at the moment, exacerbated by the hormone-y goodness of trying to get pregnant. I think a bit of venting and moaning is OK. I'm still reading!
And I recommend gin gimlets. Very cheering. Ditto sidecars. And they have citrus in them = good for you!
It's such a frakking roller coaster ride, isn't it? Hang in there, and vent away. Lordy knows we get it...
(My word verification is "pleism" - sounds like a disease where you're always trying to please someone. Or you're pleading with someone. Not sure which, actually.)
I'm eyeing up the fecundity of others with dread before I've even decided to try again! I'm treating it as warming up for the Misery Marathon that will almost surely accompany any attempts to get pregnant, no matter how much I tell myself otherwise.
Oh, I'm sorry. I've been throwing myself a massive pity-party lately too.
And IMO, once an infertile, always an infertile. I may have 3 kids, but that doesn't mean I don't resent all the pregnant women I see who SURELY didn't have to drain a back account and endure multiple arse-sticks to conceive their precious bundles.
I'm sorry that life is throwing you shitty breaks. And you are certainly not the only bloggy failure in town - I have had a bunch of your posts in the reader for ages waiting for inspiration for a decent comment. I have decided the decent comment can wait though in favour of the "I'm here, I'm listening, bugger all I can do but if I could I would" comment.
Oh and I agree with Kristi - once there always there - ok maybe slightly less than 85% proof bitter but bitter nonetheless.
Hoping the job i/view goes brilliantly and you can cock a snook to the Embassy functionary (maybe they should spend more money on sensible staff instead of the huge new place they are building in S London - and whilst they are at it what about paying the congestion charge too!).
Since I'm not a world-weary traveler, I have no idea what is going on with the Visa thing. You have to make a certain income to qualify?? Wha?
Can I just say right here - and in a venue completely unrelated to your post? I sure do miss IMing with you.
I'm with you, partner in un-pregnancy. We're T minus 2 months until the big (expensive) guns get pulled out, with the arrival of my bloody pal this morning. Ain't life grand?
hahahaaha - hilarious! Now I know that I was drinking for you darling! Yes, of course, you're welcome.
Oh and the digitals? yeah - don't you feel like an ass when the "NOT" comes up? I thought they may as well have an audio (nelson) "ha ha" in there too and shoot out a little salt in your newly opened wound.
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