2 Updates

I have been wanting to spill my updates on the blog and show it some much needed love in forever.
I find that every time I think of rejoining the blogging world, I go through varying phases of:

• Oh this incident is SO definitely a blog post
• Geez - would you look at HER/HIM trying to blog
• I am going to start blogging again tomorrow 
• I miss reading/sharing/tirelessly blogging (as Beks put it) and the camaraderie there existed in shared angst 
• Blog friends are now Facebook friends so don't know if there's anything that I want to talk about that hasn't already made it as a status or worse, what if they ask me about it on Facebook? 
• And then I go get myself a tub of ice-cream and watch endless hours of my new found obsession and go to sleep

But gawd, much has happened. I mean, a mountain load of so much.  


One - we are officially infertile. Well, I am. And taking meds/injectibles and enduring a trillion ultrasounds to make my bum ovaries produce follicles that will grow large enough for the boy's sperm to come visit. 
I have, on average, two meltdowns / month regarding this. I am not sure if it's due to the meds or just the weight of that word 'infertile' bearing down on me. 
For instance, I grew angry and red and burst into silent tears when I left my doc's office yesterday, because a) the apt was at 7 am and I had, in a moment of bravado, sneaked out of the house to go to the apt by myself and the news was not exactly encouraging.
b) I saw this:

Curse you, Anne Geddes - I do not want to acknowledge your baby in its generic yet oddly endearing setting.

I called the boy and met him for breakfast and we went over our doc's options of continuing on meds and coming in for another ultrasound on Sat.

I: I want one moment of clear, unstruggled for victory. Where this whole process doesn't feel so sisyphean and a baby comes to w/o the tests and the meds and angst. I just want this one m...
IM/The Boy: You have to stop
I: huh?
IM: This is our reality. We know our diagnosis. We knew it'll be a struggle. We are actively engaged in the process. You can't be depressed every time we hit a hurdle. There are tons of options. And hey, when we do get the child, you have excellent guilt leverage - "You don't have time to call your mom? Rea-lly? Do you know what I went through to have YOU?"
So that made me feel better. Because who doesn't like having extra leverage to hold over future child's head? 


Two - I am now 34. Which frightens me. Not because of the baby stuff.
But because I am not exactly the much more sophisticated me (the me with a corner office with hordes of minions who I dismiss on a regular basis to go forth to carry out my fabulous strategies) that I thought I'd be at 34.

.

So that hasn't happened yet.

I fear I may be one of those eternally thirsting for more-&-MORE success people. And my life plan that my father made me draw when I was 12 may need reevaluation.

Last year, I wen through a weird phase where I got locked into a silent but v.bitter competitive battle with co-workers. And I am ashamed of the person I turned into.
Every pin/status/work strategy/wardrobe choice  was to ensure that I appeared to be doing better than them. 
And this year, after much self-inflicted rehab, I am learning to not care so deeply of my image, as perceived by others.
And do the whole 'be the best that you can be' person.
I have this saved on my phone & in moments of despair/competitive rage/bitterness whip it out to read. Honestly, most of it does not relate to my situation of the moment but I have always adored 'To Thine Own Self Be True' and just saying that to myself centers me enormously.

I have even found myself quoting it while at my doc's office going through a transvaginal ultrasound. Can there be anything more ghastly modern medicine has come up with than a Transvaginal ultrasound. It truly is as disgustingly intrusive as it sounds.

So that's my story for the day. I am off now to go shoot myself with some egg enhancing juice.