Things that Go Bump in the Night of the Infertile (Monday)

Good morning! Did you miss me last week? What do you mean: "What are you talking about?" I didn't post last week. I was busy celebrating my anniversary and O.D.ing on Halloween candy. It wasn't pretty. From what I'm told, I passed out on my neighbor's lawn with a Reese's peanut butter cup hanging out of my mouth and a Milky Way jammed in each of my fists. I woke up this morning in de-tox.

And...no joke...I have to go to the dentist this morning. This time when I lie about how much sugar I eat and how much I floss it will be even less believable than usual. How credible can you be when you have a cavity that's been filled with three inches of nougat? And caramel braces across five of your top teeth? Now, back to our show....

So Halloween got me thinking....Fears.... Of course we all have them. Some are rational some aren't. But most, I believe are all rooted (still have that dentist appointment on my mind) in one thing:  The unknown.

And that's why I think most of us spend the majority of our infertility-diagnosis and treatments-holding our breaths and trembling so much it looks like we're forever doing  jazz hands.... Because there are no guarantees.

At no point will anyone say to us: "This will definitely work."  When I hear women, fertility-challenged or not,  say: "Oh, I'll be pregnant by next winter"  I'm dying to ask: "Oh, do you have a crystal uterus? Did a fortune teller look in it and see a baby singing Jingle Bells?"   

Unfortunately most of us don't have organs that divulge their secrets to psychics at the State Fair.... So we have to rely on doctors and tests and procedures... and put our hopes, dreams and trusts in "The unknown"

So this week, let's take a look at what we're most afraid of with all of this infertility business and some infertility nightmares. No, no. Come out from under the table.  Still a humor blog here... I promise it won't be "The Shining" or "Psycho" scary. It will be strictly G-rated. Well... probably not the language... and then there's my naughty little mind.  Sort of G-rated with one eye closed... 

Listen, I gotta go. The appointment looms. Somewhere there's a drill bit, a man with icy digits and a paper chest protector awaiting me.

I'll talk with ya again tomorrow.