The Infertility Cyclone (Wednesday)

(Start with "Monday" if you can. I'll admit I can't vouch for whether or not "Monday's" post is any good. Our lights were out. I typed the post in the dark...with the  computer off. On the other hand: It may be the best thing I"ve ever written.)   And tomorrow Thursday, April 21st, if you're available: I'll be on "The Surrogacy Lawyer" live webradio show on Voice America. It will be 11 am/PST/ 2PM/EST. Log on if you can at

So, what were we talking about? Oh right. My husband and I being trapped in a mall when tornadoes hit our area a few days ago. Everyone was huddled under the desks in the Jackson Hewitt kiosk. You'd think someone would have questioned the safety of an office whose walls fold up and are thrown into the trunk of a car after tax season.

And then we discussed the similarities between living through a tornado that destroys everything in its path and living through infertility... that destroys everything in its path. When I was going through infertility, I lived in the eye of the storm. (Some may call it denial.) It was like the tornado that hit here Saturday. We were at the mall. (Not to imply that I went for fertility treatments at the mall.)

It was bedlum. People were running. (Except the mall walkers. Either they're really disciplined in their exercise routines or that's about as fast as they can go.)

Stores were closing their gates, lights were flickering and my husband and I were in the phone store going: "So, is that price before or after rebate?"

That's how I was during infertility. We got married at nearly forty and tried to conceive for a year. Then we went to a fertility clinic and the rest is a blur.

Maybe as the infertility cyclone hit I got bashed in the head with with the cellar door when I went chasing after my little dog, and just don't remember.

The last thing I do remember is the receptionist saying: "You're how old? We'll be right with you. Don't bother sitting down." (I don't think I was in Oz...Or about to meet with Dr. Oz for that matter b'dum bum) 

Then the winds came up and the tornado began. Needles, tests, more tests, Gonal-F, Lupron, Follistim (still have no idea to this day why they switched meds on me), swirling hormones, golf-ball sized cotton balls on my arm, nerves snapping like twigs.

Destruction and devastation as far as the eye could see: Shaky marriages, rifts with the in-laws, broken hearts, angry best friends...

But eventually the tornado passed... it always does.......and my hair still looked the same as before it started.   

Listen, I gotta go. It's mid-Passover and I'm starting to hallucinate that weird objects are edible. It happens every year.  I won't even go into me nibbling on my old cell phone charger. But like I said...eventually...everything passes.

I'll talk with ya again tomorrow.