Valentine's Month #3 - Why Even Bother?

There are a few reasons why I've labeled February as "Valentine's Month." (Not to take a thing away from Black History Month or Heart Health Month.) It's just that this month has a lot of meaning for me. My husband is exactly nine days older than I am. So this, right now, is the only period throughout the year when I can say I married an older man... for at least another few days anyway.

Also, Valentine's Day falls within that short period between our two birthdays. I also think it's cool (I'm probably the only one) that even though he is only nine days older than I am, we were born in two different years on the Chinese calendar. We were pretty old when we met each other and even older when we got married. (Hence my infertility issues, I'm sure.) Even though I admit it's somewhat of a dopey cash cow holiday, I went a lot of years having sucky Valentine's Days. A lot of people handle dateless or lousy date or no-show date Valentine's Days perfectly well but not I. For decades not years, I perused the seasonal aisles at Walgreen's just to look at the dozens of Valentine's items I had no intention of getting from anyone. So once I found a Valentine's Day keeper, I made up my mind to suck every living inch out of the holiday that I could. My husband, as the lucky winner of me, must now dedicate the rest of his days making up for the thousands of would-be Valentine's who done me wrong. I'm not talking monetarily here. I'm not looking for The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills presents of sports cars and diamonds. But somewhere in that Valentine's/Birthday celebration period I do like personal notes, candy, flowers and lots of hugs and kisses. I'm needy not greedy.

There are plenty of times when we all take our relationships for granted. I'm not sure if that's the right way to describe what many of us do during infertility, so let's just say our relationships can take a beating during infertility. There's the basic issue that somebody's body has failed. So I'm letting you down or you're letting me down. It's somebody's fault. Then, to add to the romance, you get to make an appointment to share your bedroom habits with somebody you met ten minutes ago with cold hands and a lab coat.  Then, to add to the spark, that same person tells you when you must touch each other and when you can't touch each other. Of course the high-priced bills, the mood-altering drugs, and the thrice-weekly doctor appointments that shift the focus of your marriage vows to the "For Better or Worse" emphasis, don't help. And the closest you get to any real intimacy is when your lover love love jams a nightly needle into your ass.

So during infertility especially, but always: Valentine's Month should be like every other month: When focus goes back to why in the world you ever picked the cute, hair-thinning, lovable son-of-a-bitch in the first place.

Thanks for stopping by! If you'd like some laughs at infertility's expense... I was a professional stand-up comic and now I write humor for newspapers, magazines, blogs, etc. I wrote this little eBook during my own infertility adventure to sort it all out and to de-stress myself with laughter. Hopefully it can do the same for you. (4.5 stars/66 reviews) available on Nook & Kobo.