Reality check

It's been one of those weeks. You know, the ones you wish you never got out of bed.

Between advising, meetings with students about grades (translation: me calling them into my office and discussing a plan for helping them not fail my course), recommendation letter writing and editing proposals, I'm ready for a long nap. Sadly, it's only 4 pm on a Wednesday.

The last few days I've been grappling with the Lupron monster. For the most part it's been an interesting battle: there are moments where I've managed to kick the monster's ass fairly thoroughly, all while demanding "who's your daddy," while hog-tying the asshole.  Other moments, it's got me pinned, crying out "you are, YOU ARE" in hopes it will loosen its grip so I can jump it again. Grey has been watching all of this go down, resorting to finally naming the monster "Lulu." Now we just need to find a muzzle.

Last night, though, we decided to make peace. And all of this was due to two very incredible posts by two bloggers, both of whom are named contains people contained Mo.

The first post is by this Mo. I've only recently started following her blog (thank you ICLW!!!) and have already learned so much from her posts. The one last night hit me like a ton of brick: in honor of Dr. Seuss's birthday she wrote about her favorite book from his work, "Oh! The Places You'll Go." I'd never read this one, somehow missing it probably due to the fact I was a teenage when it was released. But reading Mo's post immediately opened the flood-gates. All starting from the image of the prickle-ey perch.

Grey found me midway through Mo's post and immediately wanted to know if I needed a shock-collar for Looloo. It was then that he sat down and helped me finish Mo's post, helping me read aloud Seuss's words.

The post sparked a conversation we've been meaning to have for awhile, a conversation about change. The last few years have been hard ones, with us being in a holding pattern not only with trying to expand our family but also with our work and our dreams. The excuse for a long time was that we couldn't move on because one of us was in the middle of completing our education. We're finally at a point where we are planning for the next transition, but in the meantime we're both feeling catch in a holding pattern, waiting for the outcome of this cycle, of the next year. Both of us are hurting from being stuck on the IF rollercoaster, but neither of us have been able to put words into the awfulness of the situation. Seuss did that for us.  And Mo summarizes all of this better than I ever will.

The second post came from this Mo. Only a week after the loss of her son, she is already writing about what Nadav has taught her. Her strength inspires and awes me, so it wasn't a surprise that this post would do the same.

Like many women, I'm awful at asking for help. I feel the need to sacrifice myself so others don't suffer or are inconvenienced in any way. Many times, this is unconscious, driven mainly by guilt and a mentality that I'm somehow weak. Mo's post made an outstanding case for why we need to stop hurting ourselves this way, and called on us to stop feeling guilty for asking for help.

But her post also touched on a mechanism for why we may do this, especially during periods of loss. Her observation about her parents having a difficult time seeing her grieve really hit home. No one likes to see someone they love hurting so badly. But it never dawned on me that this needs to happen. It needs to happen in order for healing to happen.

After reading both these posts, my mind was a whirl, sensing a connection from this wisdom. The answer finally hit me like a ton of bricks at 4 am: I'd been waiting quietly in the "Waiting Place." And not just while dealing with infertility; I'd been doing it for most of my life. Some how, I got it into my head that all my drama would be dealt with if I just waited my "turn." I would have my baby when it was my turn. Thing is, my "turn" never came. And despite everything I'd been told, my most memorial moments in life were when I stop waiting and took action. When, good or bad, I could own the outcome.

And I'm currently doing that. Good or bad, Grey and I are moving forward with this FET. There are no guarantees that this will work and even if I am lucky enough to end up pregnant, this doesn't mean I will end up with a baby. But that's not the point. The point is that I'm finally doing something.

T minus 8 days till I'm off the Lupron and get to say good-bye to Lulu. Till then, I'm holding out hope for a muzzle.