Butter On My Sweet Potato

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An Update, On Things You May Or May Not Care About

Posted by Gin on June 22, 2011

  • We got another cat, because we are suckers. Meet Dirty Harry Callahan, affectionately known in this house as The Shithead (for good reason).

Don't let the cute kitty belly fool you
This brought our cat count up to four. Yeah.

  • The rest of the cats got mad about the new guy. Two ran away, within a couple of days of each other. Some asshole in my neighborhood tore down the Lost Cat fliers I put up. Yeah.
  • After becoming fed up with the quality of care from my normal ob/gyn, a few weeks ago I went back to my Fertility $pecialiSt. After reviewing my history and course of treatments so far, his recommendation was to start hormone injections. Depending on if I want to go the natural or turkey baster route, these treatments can cost anywhere from $1,500 to $2,000+ a cycle. Like, a month. Yeah.

After crying and drinking wine and crying and more wine, I decided that maybe I should just cool it on this babymaking stuff for a bit. John was going to be traveling to The Armpit of Africa for work for a couple of weeks anyway, so there’s no point in rushing into stuff if the timing could be off anyway. So I ordered an Infertility Yoga DVD – couldn’t hurt, right? – with customized routines and breathing exercises and shit to coincide with certain phases of each cycle. HEY THIS COULD BE REALLY GREAT LET’S DO THIS, I thought as I popped in the DVD for the first time, pretty buzzed after a couple of glasses of wine and still unsure of all this hippie shit.

Except that I can’t get through these things, each routine ending with me lying on my back on the floor, as instructed, with my hands over my abdomen sending “warm, comforting energy” to my uterus, tears pooling in my ears because WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING, HOW HAS MY LIFE COME TO THIS, AND WHY DO I THINK I COULD TAKE CARE OF A BABY ANYWAY, I CAN’T EVEN TAKE CARE OF CATS,  THEY HAVE ENOUGH SENSE TO SHIT IN A BOX AND NOT ALL OVER THEMSELVES, AND THEY RAN AWAY FROM ME.

July 5 will mark four years since I got off The Pill and I started this whole thing. I have learned a lot and been through even more during that time, but I feel even less sure of things now than when I started. I’m discouraged. We’ve already sunk thousands of dollars into this process. Am I prepared to spend more on the injections each month than we do on all of our monthly bills combined? Am I prepared for that much more emotional investment? Am I prepared for the inevitable onslaught of Crazy the hormones would bring, without the benefit of knowing that the breakouts and nausea and irrationality are because I’m actively growing a baby? If we were “just letting nature take its course”, I could fool myself into thinking I didn’t really care one way or the other, as I sat waiting for the results of a pee stick. We’ve just been having fun…right?

I don’t know what to do. Yeah.

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