Sunday, January 18, 2009

Searching for a Metaphor

I’m sitting here, searching for a metaphor to describe my ongoing effort to chase down a child. Do I go with a sports metaphor, like how the goalposts keep moving? Do I try to liken it to catching an accelerating car (maybe, if I want to be whimsical, an ice cream truck), where the faster I run the further it gets away? Or maybe I call up Forrest Gump, and say it’s like catching a feather swept away by the wind.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to bury the lead, and I’m firmly anti-tortured-metaphor. So here’s the skinny: J and I are now extending our “break” until April (making it the longest break we’ve been on since we started TTC three and a half years ago, and that’s including the break for my surgery).

He’s had some indicators that his hormone therapy will improve his sperm count, but it still needs a lot of time. I suppose this is good news, but we still don’t know much.

And I’m not ready either. I’ve been in intensive chiropractic treatment (three times a week) for three months now, and it looks like it’s going to be a few more months before I get better. Apparently, I’m one of those super-rare people who respond to treatment by getting incredibly sore (described by my doc as a nerve “flare-up”). Just like I was one of those super-rare people who don’t get “cured” by acutane (the acne came back after 6 months). And one of those super-rare people who aren’t eventually cured by allergy shots after 7 years (I’ve been on them 15 years and counting). And one of those super-rare people that, despite being able to conceive a baby once on her own (with help of man, of course), can’t seem to make it happen via IVF. You’d think I’d stop being surprised when my body disappoints me. Actually, I wasn’t surprised. I was just mad.

You know what? I don’t even want to write about my back—it’s just too upsetting. And I do think it’s going to get better. I even think I might come out of this a lot healthier. Maybe. But it’s taking a lot of patience and faith. And it might not work. And it’s not covered by insurance. Sound familiar?

I started blogging to find other women out there like me. I didn’t start blogging during my IUI, because I was sure it would work. And I didn’t start blogging during my first two IVF cycles, because I was sure my sadness was just a temporary thing, soon to be cured by a nice, fat, uncomfortable pregnancy. I started blogging when it seemed I might really end up without a baby. I started blogging because I wanted an online support group.

What I didn’t count on was feeling like, even among my support group, I’m getting left in the dusk. Is that a horrible thing to say? I’m feeling really bitter right now. But I just realized that I’m going to have to re-organize my blogroll into segments, because half of the people on there now have babies (or are very close to it). And I’m going to have to make some new blog friends because almost everyone out there that I’ve gotten close to is already pregnant or matched or parenting even now. And they’re all so happy. I feel like a real shit for being upset about that. It’s not that I begrudge anyone their joy. I just feel so left out. Like I’m the only one left who just can’t seem to get this thing figured out.

Wow. I had no idea I was going to get so upset tonight. Sometimes I just sit down and write and see what comes out, and I guess what’re coming out are hot, angry tears.

So let me back off from my self-pity and tell you about my amazing weekend, and my amazing mood. DC is going Obama-mad right now; it’s so exciting to be here and be a part of it. I’ve spent the bulk of the weekend getting ready for our wild adventure downtown on Tuesday, a journey which we’re determined to make in spite of everyone saying we shouldn’t. So I’ve been out buying wool socks and hand warmers and warm gloves and stuff like that. (It doesn’t really get that cold that long here, so we tend not to have as many warm clothes around as we did when we lived in Boston.) I wanted to buy J some long underwear (I already have some), but apparently the entire state has sold out of long underwear, at least in the cheaper stores. (I’m not making this up. Today I checked Target, Marshall’s, and Ross, and all I found were empty racks marked “long underwear.”) And everywhere I shop, everyone’s talking about the concert today, and the inauguration, and the parade, and the balls. And every five minutes or so I’ll see something (such as the concert today) that will make me well up with tears. I’m such a sap.

This town has been drowning in Obama-swag-crap for a month, and the crap-pile is just getting deeper. And I have been very good about not buying any of it. It’s not a collector’s item, I tell myself as I walk by the tables and racks and carts, it’s a cheap piece of crap.

So with two days to go and my no-Obama-crap streak running strong, I stop off at the grocery store to get supplies for the upcoming trek downtown. And what do I see? A rack of t-shirts, with “Obama 44” on them, the word and number laid out like a basketball jersey or something. Just too damn adorable. I’m a total sucker, so I grab a shirt. (And then, of course, I buy us some little American flags to take down to the mall with us. And then I buy J some Obama socks, because I can’t leave him out, can I?)

The kid at the cash register rings me up, and I’m all chatty, talking about the end of my swag-less streak. I couldn’t understand a lot of what he was saying (heavy accent), but I did get that this was the first time he had voted.

“That’s awesome,” I said, adding, “the first president I voted for was Bill Clinton.”

He paused and stared at me. Then stared deeper, seemingly perplexed. Finally, he said, “But, but that was, like, in the 90’s, right?”

Did I mention I just got my hair cut and colored yesterday? Oh yeah, that cut-and-color just paid for itself.

For those of you who stuck around to the very end, congratulations on witnessing yet another Babychaser mood swing. Unfortunately, I’m not cycling or pregnant, so there’s not much I can blame it on. This is just me.

18 comments:

luna said...

my blogroll has totally changed over the past year. I organize my reader into sections, and I don't look at the ones I don't feel like reading.

enjoy the obamania! I watched obama-stock (or was it barack-stock) on hbo tonight, and taking off tues. am. to watch the speech.

annacyclopedia said...

I understand about feeling left out, sweetie. There is absolutely no need to feel like a real shit about this - none at all. It hurts to watch others get what you want so much, even if you really love them. Maybe especially if you really love them. (I'm still seething over an offhanded comment my sister made the other day about wanting a second child sometime in the next few years.) But I hope you can let yourself off the hook for that so you're not causing yourself more pain.

The breaks just suck. For me it is so hard not to freak out completely about wasting time. It's just so hard to wait.

Thinking of you, and sending love and hugs and thoughts for a pain-free back very, very soon.

Barb said...

You're not left in the dust by me chickie. Someday I hope we both kick up some dust of our own, but for right now, we're both covered in it. ;-P How can it be that it's still a sucker punch at times huh?

And I think we're those "super-rare" people (I am too) b/c the heart of our problems lie in the disorders we have. So treating the symptoms does just that.. treats the symptoms. A lot of hte problems I've had forever are at least improving some on Metformin and synthroid... proof that hashi's and pcos are the culprit.
xoxoxo

Mrs.X said...

Ah, I know this feeling all too well. It is that familiar mix of envy and guilt when you look down the list and realize that most people have left the stationt in which you are still waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

We could follow the theory of lemons and lemonade, except that we would be making mud pies out of dust. Hmm. Not appealing.

How about we all just sit quietly, supporting each other at the station?

lostintranslation said...

I hope you had a great inauguration day yesterday and it took your mind off your IF worries for a little while. Also wish a good (and healing) break, even if it's difficult to see the weeks and months go by without anything happening. Good luck! *ICLW#39*

In Due Time said...

((Hugs)) The good thing about the internet is we aren't alone. I hope the extra waiting pays off. Hang in there hun.

Emmy said...

How exciting to be in DC during this time! Wow.

I totally understand about feeling left out. That is how my friends IRL are currently making me feel, which I why I come here! I'm just starting my IF life and I'm sure I'll be baby-less for quite a while.

kate said...

Yeah. I know what you mean. I'm a "In The Beginning" clicker, and sometimes I wonder if I should pass on that gig the next time it comes around, because it starts to hurt my heart, seeing blog after blog move from In The Beginning to... well, to ANYWHERE. And yet there I still sit, not even a diagnosis to keep me company, while everyone else gets knocked up.

But (I say this now, but reserve the chickadee's right to change my mind with no notice), as much as I hate not knowing what the outcome will be, and watching everyone else get some sort of answer for their outcome, I try to remind myself that I think I'll be okay if I don't get knocked up, that I'll be okay whatever the outcome is. I just hate not knowing.

So, basically, I'm with you on the whole "sucks to be left behind" part.

As far as the coronation celebration, I was thinking about y'all and wondering how you were handling the insane crowds- glad to hear you were one of them! Sounds like it would be a lot of fun to have been among the crowds.

And it is ALWAYS nice to have a few years shaved off by a stranger. I still rub it in H's face when I get carded...

Fat Chick said...

The first president I voted for was Clinton, too. I had someone ask me, "So, you must be, like, 50 then, right?" I about died. And then I made a mental note to never send my kids to public school. WHEN I have kids.

melissa said...

That is so exciting about going downtown of the Obamafest! I watched the whole thing on TV, it was really moving.
I am praying that your break brings much rest and healing with your back.
ICLW

J. D. said...

As awful as it is to say, I too feel left out and bitter. I think at times we probably all feel that way. Well that's what I tell myself to feel like less of a. . .ah. . .snot.

ICLW

notsofertilemyrtle said...

I found your post through ICLW, and I feel like you do a lot of the time. It's hard not to feel like everyone else's dreams are coming true while yours are still on hold. And I loved ALL your metaphors -- my husband is a metaphor junkie, and uses them constantly, so it's nice to see some that apply to this particular situation!

*Hugs* and thoughts of you.

Happy ICLW!

notsofertilemyrtle said...

http://notsofertilemyrtle.typepad.com/

Peeveme said...

I totally get the "sucks to be left behind" thing. I can't imagine any would not get it.

I voted for the guy before Clinton. What's his name? Dukakis.

Angelwingsbaby said...

I just found your blog and look forward to following your story-Megan

Malloryn said...

I had to reorganize my blog roll too, and on some days I can't look at the successful ones. I thought long and hard about what blog subtitle to use for those still in the trenches. In some ways I'm still digging through them myself and wanted to be mindful of what people were going through. Sure, the waiting time in adoption will be hard when we get to that stage... but I don't think it can compare to what people struggling with IF go through.

I'm sorry that you're feeling left out. It's so hard to go through this. Please know that you're not alone. I hope this break helps both of you. ::hugs::

daega99 said...

Fascinating post! If I could vote, 92 would have been my first election.

I go to a chiroprator but for a curved spine. it is tough sometimes but i actually enjoy it.

*ICLW 66*

Ms Heathen said...

The feeling of being left behind is so very hard.

While there are some people who seem able to move seamlessly on from infertility, there are others who still remember all too vividly the despair and anger it invokes. Please know that, even though I may have made it through to the 'other side', I'm still here and will continue to do whatever I can to support you.