I feel like a shaken soda bottle with the cap on, and rather than spew all over the place, I figured I would let it out here. Sort of like how you think a bottle might explode when you open it so you hold it over the sink? This is me, holding it over the sink.
Hi. My name is Spazzle. And I am SO EFFING SICK of talking about my uterus. :) I don't mind that some people know that we are ttc, and I don't mind that inevitably some of these people know that we're seeing a specialist. It's whatever. I'm not embarrassed about it. It's not a big secret. But there is also a lot more to me, and just because I give someone a tiny, vague tidbit about what's going on in my life does not give him/her the right to send me messages like, "I heard (via so-and-so) that you guys are having a procedure done soon? I forgot to ask how it's been going with your appointments." I'm just like... when did my uterus become polite conversation? Oh, you want me to tell you about all the semen analyses and the blood tests and the results of my frickin' transvaginal ultrasound, which was conducted on my period, btw, so just go ahead and get that mental image in there? I have friends with whom I'm very close and update regularly that do not ask me things like "What procedure are you guys having done?" Idk if this lady was just trying to satisfy a sick curiosity or if she thought she was being polite -- she recently told me that my husband and I are on her prayer list, because she heard we were having trouble, and I thanked her, and that was that. She also said very nice things about the clinic where we're going, and that some of her friends had gone there and now had miracle babies. Great. Not quite sure how that translates to "give me the play-by-play of all your personal health business" but whatevs. In another instance recently the topic got brought up with close family, and we ended up kind of filling them in much greater detail than most anyone has been, but that was our choice, and they have not pried about continued updates or anything of that sort. They've been respectful. And while I understand that we are important to all of the people in our lives and this is an important thing going on in our lives, I'm just kind of exhausted with ttc, and I'm kind of tired of talking about it. I guess really I just like to talk about it on my terms, because it's private information. I have gone on many rants about this in the past, this social phenomenon of women and their lady parts being seen as public property, and while it might sound kind of out there, it makes perfect sense if you think about the way that the second someone is ttc or pregnant, random people (and sometimes total strangers) come out of the woodwork to give you advice or ask you inappropriate questions or, heaven forbid, touch you. (I'm just gonna go on the record and say that I'm probably going to rock a few worlds when/if I'm pregnant, because for whatever reason people don't know how to treat pregnant women like *people*, sometimes). But I digress. I just think about the lady's message and how that if we were say, "just ttc", would she have thought it was appropriate to message me and ask how many times we had sex?, how was my cm?, what positions are we trying this week? Maybe I'm overreacting. I responded with a polite but vague, "The appointments are going well. Hopefully things are headed in the right direction. Thanks for thinking of us." But UGH. Idk. Not what I needed today. Because I am TIRED of going to the tests and appointments because I am TIRED of ttc, but of course this is part of it -- we are doomed to try harder than other people, and we are blessed because we have options. Life is hard, and work is hard, and this isn't supposed to be hard, dammit! We're supposed to get married and be in love and just BAM have a baby. Isn't that how people are usually first taught about "where babies come from"? I mean, who hasn't heard, "When a mommy and a daddy love each other very much..." blah blah blah. (Unrelated: I would NEVER tell my kids that version of the truth. It irritates the hell out of me. I would start with something like, "All creatures on the planet reproduce..." and I don't give a crap if it goes over their heads. It's all going over their heads anyway.) You deserve some wine if you have made it this far into my incoherent babbling. Speaking of wine, yes, I think I'll have some. I just want to sit on my couch and watch a favorite show and forget about my effing uterus for five effing seconds. I don't want to think about the next appointment and the appointment after that and what so-and-so wants to know about my appointment. I want my husband to come home from work and I want to pour him a glass of wine and not have a total breakdown because this is too hard or because this is just the most bizarre place to be and we never thought we'd find ourselves here. And I know all of this is on his mind too. You know the other day he told me out of the blue that my clock (meaning my biological clock -- I was worrying about it) is his clock, too, and how we're always in this together? Sweetest man in the whole world, I swear. But then sometimes one of us will just break down, because it isn't supposed to be this hard. But it is. And we'll deal. And everything will be okay. But today, I will have my wine and I will rant about the fact that people suck and I suck at dealing with this some days and I just want one moment to not think about the fact that there are so many people this isn't hard for and how it's not, effing, fair...
See? I warned you about the spewing. Much love to all of you always. Tomorrow is a new day. Hopefully a day I can get through without anybody asking me anything about my lady parts or all these children I don't already have.