A Box of Kleenex ™ , Please!
Perhaps I should elaborate and request the COSTCO-size box? (for me!) Yes, that would be better, I think. Thankyouverymuch.
You see things are generally beginning to build up on me, yet I somehow end up managing to plaster a half-ass smile on my face when I REALLY have to, even though it is becoming increasingly difficult to do.
In particular, the prolonged lack of a JOB. This is driving me up a damn wall. Really. The first TWO months of joblessness could be dealt with because, well, because I was going on frequent interviews. It keeps morale up, you know? Even if you don’t get hired, still…. But since the week before my birthday? Nothing. Dry as a damn well, the job market for my field, apparently. Well, let me be more specific. There are jobs, but only for locals, not for people like me who are in a sort of limbo. I’m not a local, but am married to one. I’m an expat, technically, being from a foreign country, but I live here, my husband and child are here. Other ladies like myself are in limbo also. *whine ,whine, whimper*. It has been suggested that I give up my US Citizenship for a Bahraini citizenship. My response to this is to laugh my ass off…… hysterically. Why in the HELL would I give up my nationality? For a job? Screw that. To become a national of a country that I have had Customs officials ask my husband upon seeing his passport “Is this a real passport? I’ve never heard of this place. Let me go check.” While me, with my lovely Blue US Passport breezed through.
Anyway, I think the Employment Agencies are fed up with my incessant calls. I can just imagine their faces when they see my number on their caller ID.
Also, more specifically, my longing for another child. I have tried to not let this get to me, I really have. It is a losing battle, however. But my jobless situation has effectively put everything in my life on hold, including this.
After my last IVF attempt, the cancelled one more than ¾ of the way into the cycle back in the end of May this year, I sank into a deep depression about it all. I saw the German specialist, who, while very kind and understanding, couldn’t tell me much more than I already knew and had figured out on my own. She basically agreed with my suggestion for an alternative option for another cycle since it had ended up with me pregnant in the past. Her reply was “Yeah, why not try it? It’s not like it will hurt!”. Gee, thanks Doc. I didn’t really discuss with anyone, ANYONE that specialist visit. It just made me feel very, very helpless. I guess I’m just ready to talk about it now. I knew it would be a fucked up visit shortly after I sat down with her and she started reviewing off the history that I had just recited slowly and painfully to an assistant as they typed it in the computer for Doc to read. It was WRONG. ALL OF IT, and that, my friends, freaked me the hell out. I tried my best to do damage control as she recited aloud the screwed up mess they had made of my case history in the COMPUTER, but for the love of GOD, I had given details, MINUTE details from the age of 15 up to present. I was 32 when I saw this doc. You do the damn math. You can only correct so much before the physician’s eyes begin to glaze over and you realize that they are on info overload. Well, shit. The only bright spot of the whole experience is that she was extremely gentle during the physical exam and took her time during the ultrasound, showing me bits and pieces, which, you readers that have been with me from the beginning (or have kindly read all my archives) know that that makes me happy! Happy like receiving presents, happy. But for all her kind and gentleness, I still ended up hearing………
“I don’t know” about the past cycle that was cancelled. Or why, perhaps, the 3 previous IVF’s didn’t work. I mean, I had embryos transferred back to my uterus, but I suppose maybe they didn’t use Krazy Glue like I asked? Apparently not. Stupid gap-tooth-size-of-the-Grand-Canyon Wand Monkey Bastard.
I don’t like being told “I don’t know” by ‘specialists’ and a doctor that has been literally crawling around poking, prodding and removing stuff and putting things back into my body for the past TWO YEARS. Call me silly, if you like. But I would have been happy with a theory, for God’s sake. But noooooooooooooooooooo. Nothing of the sort, damn them.
It all made me want to give up. I felt (ok, and FEEL) like a fucking failure as a woman. On top of that? Everyone I knew, everywhere I went, I was SURROUNDED by new babies. One niece had 3 at once. Her sister had a little boy. A friend had a little boy. Another friend had a little girl. All this within a period of 30 days following my cancelled cycle. Yeah, I felt like a failure, and like giving up. Useless. It is a basic thing. Once upon a time, in VERY early Christianity, the priests used to teach that women were for begetting children. That was their purpose in life. Ok, I will admit that I think that is total bullshit. Sole purpose? I don’t think so, but it IS an important one. It isn’t as if MEN could do it, now is it? Um, no.
So, 4 failed IVF’s for whatever reason, and a dog pile of new babies in my life. A month later, I lost my job. Infertility treatment, while considerably much more affordable here than back home in America or in Europe, is still NOT CHEAP. No, not by a long shot. Do you see where I’m going with this? Be a fly on the wall and listen to me try and justify to Z to scrape up some more money for another shot at IVF (Or whatever) when he too is down about it (being the financer for these little experiments on me because really? That’s what they feel like. Trial and error.) Z’s reply? “It will probably just not work again”. Geeeeee, thaaaaaaaanks honey. No, REALLY. I appreciate it. Between THAT and other comments like it, and that look I get from him, is it really any wonder I’ve been on the down low for the past 4-5 months now about getting pregnant?
SO bearing all that in mind, I’ve been a bad Auntie the last few months, I’ll admit.
It kills me to see the newborn babies. The triplets live one house over from mine. I rarely go over there. Why? Because it makes me feel like even more of a failure, that’s why. But sometimes? I can’t help myself, and I give in and go to them. Sometimes, the mom is so worn out, she will call me, cause she trusts me with her babies, and she only trusts me, and her Aunt alone with them (I know CPR) and we are close, so she will call me moaning “HELLLLLP”, and there I go. I love babies. I love children, and they know it. It’s as if I omit this pheromone that only babies and small children can pick up on. Frequently in stores, I end up with strange children touching me, or following me or staring at me from a distance. More often than not I end up spending a few minutes chatting or playing with that child, even if it is only peek-a-boo!
Even my SIL that can go for a year or TWO and not speak to me for God knows why, (we are speaking at present) frequently says, “I hope Cyn gets pregnant, she deserves another one.” which blows my mind every time.
So anyway, the niece with the newborn son (almost 4 mos) came to visit over the weekend with the little tyke and his 1 ½ year old sister. That little girl has almost IDENTICAL coloring to my daughter, Arianna. Seeing them together, cause Ari ADORES this child, really choked me the hell up. Add to that, this little boy loves his Auntie Cyn. Seriously y’all. He and I hung out together for well over an hour all by ourselves. Even when I finally let him go, whoever was holding him didn’t seem to matter, cause he always ended up staring at me and following me with his eyes and smiling at me with that dopey baby smile that can melt you like butter. Little bear.
I thought seeing him and holding him would cheer me up. I really, really did. But, it didn’t. No siree. Nuh-uh. I also had to hear various family remarks while Z was holding him too. Then? The looks like I was depriving him of a child and his sad little face.
Fuck. Deeper into the pit for me. *Sigh*
But in the back of my mind, there is always that little glimmer of hope, for you see, I’m such a stubborn and determined thing. Yes I am. I am not really a quitter. Also in the back of my mind? My little conversation last week with my doctor friend (Dr. R) at the hospital where I also have done my IVF and other various medical needs. I was on my way to an appointment with another doctor (who I found out was running late, as usual) when I saw this Orthapedic Surgeon’s office door open. He always gives me a hard time for not stopping by to say hello but really, he is usually insanely busy. So, I decided to go wait for my other appointment by sticking my head in to say hello. Dr. R was happy to see me and jumped up to give me a big hug. Sat me down, asked after me and etc… and then he said quietly “My dear, are you still wanting to try for a baby?” and I said “yes. I know Wand Monkey left, etc…” and Dr. R said “Forget him, never mind. There is yet another Doctor who has just joined. I’ve known him for 8 years, and he is a specialist and has amazing success rate. He is a good friend of mine. Let me call him NOW!”. (this is in addition to the doc that came back that I mentioned a couple of wwkes ago. The one that did my Investigative aLaprascopy 2 years back that dumped me on Wand Monkey.)He hopped on the phone and gave him a little chat up and told him to expect to see me soon, etc… Kind of him I thought. The more he talked about him, the more hopeful I got. DO you know what freaked me the hell out? When I heard his first name, which I have only heard ONE other person have before. This new doc has the same first name, Shafeeq, as my doctor in the states that enabled me to get pregnant with Arianna. Then that angel of hope, the silly bitch, hit me with one of her golden arrows.
Perhaps it’s a good sign? An omen? Lord, but I hope so. Am I deluding myself? Perhaps, but what the hell.
I told Z about him, and even HE got excited about that. One small problem though. Remember that fucked up Patient history in the computer from the specialist visit? It is still there. So, I will have to type up everything myself, I think, and pre-deliver it to him for him to go over before I even set foot in his office.
Ok, another problem. I need to be working before I can try again. Who the hell would hire me pregnant, if it worked? Nobody. That’s who. A third problem? Yes, naturally. The money for another trial. That usually shuts Z up right quick when he starts up about me not going to the doctor or making an appointment, I must say.
As you can see, I am slowly trying to give myself pep talks (even though I still end up in tears and down more often than not). Last night is a fine example. But regardless of how I spent last night being best friends with the tissue box, I made myself go over to play with the triplets today for the longest time. I even enjoyed it. (How could I not? Two of them the boy and smallest girl looked so glad to see me, they were grinning and their faces lit up! Then I felt like a complete asshole for not coming more.)
But God it is oh so hard not to be down. I am getting identical looks from Z and Arianna now on the subject of a baby, and it is really too much. I feel like I’m on a teeter-totter and I can’t get down from it.
Oh my. Could I possibly rattle on any more than I have already?
I doubt it. Forgive me for this rant, but you know? It’s my damn blog. Deal honeys, deal.
PS: Where the hell are my Inquisition questions? HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOO?????? Are you all drunk this weekend or what? (I'm starting to wish I was) Jeez. *sniff, sniff* YOU DON'T LOVE ME ANYMORE!!!!!!!!! WAAAAAAHHHH!!!!