Today is the start of Holidailies, also known as Motivate Whylime to Get Off Her Ass and Post month. I am going to try to post daily during the month of December, as a gift to my friends and readers.
I've been retreating from the internet lately. Part of it is due to Insane Cold Office problems, and part of it is just me, feeling reclusive. I haven't been blogging, nor have I been reading blogs. I've been doing a lot of posting on dishandspoon, and on another forum, but other than that and the obsessive attention I've been paying to my own damn fertility, the internet and I are growing distant.
I haven't been talking about the fertility stuff here, just because I wasn't ready to share that with the world just yet. I've been trying to get pregnant since September, which may not seem all that long really. It's not- only three cycles so far, but it's frustrating. With the lentil, I got knocked up even before we were officially trying. I guess I just assumed I would have the same luck this time. Not so much, it turns out. Even with the temping and the testing and the tracking all sorts of personal things, I'm still not pregnant. I had it timed to the month so that the baby would come and we'd all be happy and I would still have time to finish my dissertation. Instead, my dissertation is way behind, there is no baby, and I can't help but feel anxious.
I'm 33 years old. I have a kid already. I've only been trying for three months. I'm healthy. I'm in a great situation right now with the lentil and sweets. We're moving into our first home later this month. I shouldn't be so anxious about fertility. There's little for me to worry about- the pump has been primed, I've never had any problems with the engine, and for the most part I live a pretty charmed life. But I know that there are so many women who are in even better situations than I who stuggle with fertility. I know that 1/3 of all pregnancies end in miscarriage. I know that the chances of having a viable pregnancy decrease with each year a mom ages. I came into this knowing all these things but expecting to get pregnant right away and without issues. Instead I've seen several cycles pass me by without and explanation for why that egg went unfertilized.
I haven't been writing because I didn't want to write all this down. I don't want to seem like a worrywart. I don't want to burden other people with my concerns. I don't want to be the person who bitches and moans about infertility and then comes back three days later harping about her freaking morning sickness. I don't want to write it down because I don't want to bring more problems into my life by voicing them.
A lot of American Indians believe that you don't discuss negative health issues, because by discussing them you bring them into being. This makes screening for cancer a big problem, because nobody wants to accidentally bring a cancer into being through what they hoped would be a simple conversation. Talking about illness is unlucky.
But right now I already feel unlucky. Even in the midst of so much good, I feel unlucky, gross and unsatisfied. So I keep peeing on the fucking sticks, hoping my luck will change. And I'm going to write about it more, just because it's better for me to write about it than to obsess and not process. Maybe I will be contributing to the bad luck by writing about it. Maybe I will make myself feel better. Either way, you're now lucky enough to know the rest of the story. Hang on, friends. It's a bumpy ride.
