I’ve been thinking a lot about my last Doctors visit. The one with the ANP who clearly doesn’t deal with infertility patients very often. She kept looking at me with so much pity and saying "You poor thing. You're only 26, you're so young. This must be so hard. You're supposed to have so much more time.” To which I wanted to reply "No shit lady! Why do you think I’m here?", but I didn't, because I knew she was just trying to be nice. And really, this isn't "supposed" to happen to anyone. No one who wants kids as desperately as I do should have to deal with this, I know that. I'm no less fortunate than anyone else, but... I've been reading other women’s blogs, and over and over again they state how thankful they are for their loving husbands, how nice it is to have that support. I just keep thinking to myself "This is so different for me. I'm not like these women, I'm not in the same place. So what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to feel?" It’s got me thinking that maybe I shouldn’t have been so hard-headed all those years I proudly waved my single flag.
Until very recently I never felt ready for a relationship. It's true that I left San Diego because I was ready to settle down and start looking towards the future, (I loved my life in San Diego, but it consisted primarily of working at a bar, going to school, and dating a plethora of good looking men who were no more ready to settle down than I was. All my friends were single, we all lived for the beach and the bars, and I knew that if I let myself, I would wake up one day at 40 and wonder where my life had gone, so I left), but finding someone I would actually want to spend forever with always seemed more like an abstract idea. I was more ready for the babies than I was for the husband. I'll admit: I am (and always have been) a cynic when it comes to "love". Mommy left Daddy after 12 years for another Mommy. He never saw that coming, no one did. You invest 12 years of marriage into a person (and years of dating before that), you have 2 kids with them, and then you find out you never really knew them. He rebounded, and he’s happy now, but that’s what I was exposed to. I knew from a young age that people could hide who they were from you for a very long time if they wanted to. Part of me is convinced that some people end up married solely because they don’t want to be alone. Not because they’ve found “the one”, but because they think they’ve gotten as close as they’ll ever get and they want to believe it’s their turn. I was reading today that Alec Baldwin split up from his girlfriend of the last 7 years. Normally wouldn’t have been a piece of news that caught my eye, but then I saw his quote and paused. To questions about how he was coping he said, “It’s OK… I’d rather be lonely than wrong.” I thought to myself “Wow. That’s exactly how I feel.” And then I slapped myself for identifying with a Baldwin. You can wake up one day and just discover that you don’t know the person lying next to you in bed, and then it’s over. You may not even get a say. No one has the control (or insight) they think they have over their relationships. I’ve always promised myself that I would never get married unless I was positive that it would be forever, and that I knew this person inside and out. But you can’t ever really be positive, can you? I would rather be lonely, than wrong.
In my entire life I can honestly say I have only seen maybe 2-3 relationships that encompass the type of coupling I would actually want for myself. I look at some of my friends who swear up and down how happy they are, but then I see the fights they have over ridiculous things, the jealousy and control issues and pain they inflict upon each other, and the parts of themselves they gave up to have these relationships... Sometimes I just find myself thinking "not me, not ever". I like my alone time. I like lying in bed until noon on a weekend with no one to judge me if I want to. I like bringing home crap food when I want, or cooking a huge meal just for me if that's what I'm craving. I like going where I want, when I want, with who I want, without having to worry about somebody else’s feelings or plans. I even like being able to do all the little embarrassing things you would never want anyone of the opposite sex to see you do.
There was a Sex In The City episode once where all the ladies talked about the rituals they would have to give up if they ever lived with a man. I felt so anxious today (worrying about tomorrows consult) that I came home, stripped down to my skivvies, turned my i-tunes up full blast, and danced on my bed until I felt like I could breathe again. Not exactly a regular ritual, but did it make me feel better? Yes. Would I have done it if I lived with a man? Probably not. I can’t dance worth shit! My real no-man’s land ritual is actually far worse though: At least once every two weeks I put Nair on my upper lip, a Biore strip on my nose, and literally sit in my bathroom sink and pick at all my imperfections until my face is burning. That is not a "normal" ritual. I would never want any man to catch me doing it. But, I also know, I would never really be able to give it up! And I know I am not the only woman with these kind of rituals (I mean, Sex and The City did talk about it, and that is my barometer for normal!) so what do other women do when they just need a breather from their husbands to do their thing and clear their heads? And where do I find a man content with the fact that I need my space every now and then, but just as quickly I may need him to completely wrap me up in love, and he may never know which mood I’m in… and God help him if he gets it wrong!
So, there have definitely been times when I have wondered if I am ever meant to be a wife. I love the "idea" of love; the idea of having a partner and soul mate, but the practicality of it sometimes seems like more work than it’s worth. Even with the ex, the closest I have ever come to really committing, I found myself questioning some of his habits and his inability to ever have an emotionally meaningful conversation, and I wondered if I could really deal with those things for the rest of my life (and I'm sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that there were flaws of mine that made him realize he couldn't see forever with me… I’m convinced it was that time I clogged the toilet without even realizing it and left him a lovely surprise!) It makes me sad, because I wanted a different outcome for us, but since that didn't happen (even after I fought for it with everything I had to give) can I really question if it was supposed to or not? Is there ever really a point when the good outweighs the bad enough for both people to be justified in taking that leap? For a long time, I didn’t think so. I have always been a strong, independent woman. I have always prided myself on that. Suddenly though, I found myself missing someone for the first time in my life and I realized that sacrificing some of yourself may not be the worst thing in the world, if in exchange you get parts of the person you love. Then my world started to crumble in on me, and all that time I thought I had started to disappear. Now I would give anything for a man who I love and who loves me back to wrap his arms around me and hold me while I cry. I would sacrifice a lot (maybe even my rituals) for someone who loved me so much that he was as invested in the outcome of these tests, and surgeries, and consults as I am. Doing this alone feels so… lonely. The problem is, I don’t know how to change, and I don’t know how to recognize another person that I would actually want change for. How do I keep from making a mistake? Especially now, when the pressure is so strong that I’m questioning everything.
Consult with Seattle Reproductive Medicine tomorrow A.M. Here’s to hoping for more time…
ADSPACE
