My Story in Several Parts (for NoComLeavMo)

Like a good NoComLeavMo participant (read tired mom who agreed to participate in this wonderful idea and wants nothing more than to finish her 5 commenting obligations and go to bed)  I was reading a post on http://becomingadifferentperson.wordpress.com/ when I saw that some folks had decided it would be helpful to have a brief summary of our story appear on our blog so that it would be easier to follow along.

I have decided to try and accomplish this task over the next several posts (read I really want to go to bed!)

In the Beginning –

The high cost of homes in our area, where we had lived for the past several years, was the main reason that we moved. The desire to be closer to my family, specifically my two nieces, affectionately known as the Genius and the Funny One, was a close second.

We moved into our 1950s style ranch, typical of this part of the city  We were home.  We quickly unpacked and settled in.  We had three bedrooms:  one for us, one for the dog, our beagle, and the middle room which we converted into an office.  Deep down, we hoped that this room would become the nursery one day soon.

I was stuck in the middle of the mess that has been my life since February, 2003.  My plan for parenthood felt infuriatingly stagnant some days, even when my husband, my unwavering partner in all of this, assured me that we were making progress towards our goal of parenthood. Yet, somehow I still felt firmly planted in the day-to-day muck of endless early morning doctor appointments and emotional outbursts which seem to happen at the most inopportune of times.  There were also the good days when I feel so hopeful and excited about what our life will be like in its next phase.  What kind of parents will we be?

A story usually has a beginning, middle, and an end.  Do the characters really know that?  For them it is always the middle.  A sentence without a period has no end, so it must always be in the middle.  My story, started without a period.  So even my beginning was a middle.  Are you confused yet?  I certainly was.  I spent the better part of 2 ½ years confused.  Confused about our reasons for wanting to become parents.  Confused about why we continued to pursue treatments when we had no guarantee of success.  Confused about how we would love an adopted child.  Confused about how we could manage to function in a world where we have lost all sense of control.  There were times when I was confused about simply being confused!  Sometimes I joked about the moments and situations that have made up my infertility journey and then I realized that these things were happening to me.  Sadly, at times I didn’t even recognize myself.

Often I wondered about the person I used to be before I viewed the world through this crazy filter called infertility.

‘Butch Up Crabapple’

I only wish I had written the following passage, but I have to credit a former blogger known as Gettup Grrl, who used to write the always fascinating blog Chez Miscarriage.  Unfortunatey, this blog is no longer active.  I had stumbled upon her site one day, in the midst of my own infertility fog and struggle.  Gettup Grrl was funny, she was witty, she was right on the money.

“Anyway, the voice said, “If you’re going to be crabby every time some crazy bitch gets lucky, you’re going to spend the rest of your life being crabby, so you’d better get over it now.  There will always be some crazy bitch getting lucky.  And not just crazy bitches – truly mean people, whiners and troublemakers, dictators of small countries, bossy control freaks and shirll complainers, people who have taken macrobiotic diet principles to extremes, people who steal parking spaces and don’t feel guilty even after you politely beep your horn and make the but I had my blinker on! gesture.  Those people have absolutely nothing to do with how happy you are.  You can live an ecsatic, joyful life regardless of how underservedly lucky some crazy bitch is.  Your happiness is entirely within your control.  It has nothing do do with whether you ever get pregnant, or parent a child who shares your neurotic genes, or anything else.  So butch up crabapple.”

Truer words were never spoken.  Other people have absolutely nothing to do with how happy you can be.  It takes more energy to be miserable than happy, so why not choose happy?