(Start with "Tuesday" if you can now that we're entering the sign of Aquarius. Wow, that is deep, man.) So, what were we talking about? Oh right. Honoring the venerable Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., an incredible man of peace, courage, and vision by bitching about the laundry list of bs that infertile people had better get their ass in gear and overcome.
What Do We Want? To Overcome the Dopes Around Us! When Do We Want it? Now?? ... I Mean... Now!!
Okay, so many times on this blog we've discussed the insufferable people who don't get what we're going through, probably will never get what we're going through, only half-care what we're going through, and give ridiculous advice about what we're going through. But somehow, we still let them get to us. And we have to overcome that.When I was trying to get pregnant I took my cat to the vet. (That's unrelated, by the way. I don't want you to think that in my crazed hormonal fog, I thought I found a loophole and perhaps an animal doctor might give me more affordable treatments:
"Hi, Doc. Do you take Cigna? I'm looking to get some fertility treatments. What do you do for dogs when they can't get pregnant? I mean, I know that there's a high risk of multiples anyway with fertility treatments, that's okay, I mean like twins or something, but I really don't want to have seven or eight like a german shepherd if possible. And I've been having these mood swings, so maybe you could throw in a distemper shot."
So anyway, as I was saying before I rudely interrupted myself: I started talking to this vet about my conception woes. Of course back then I would pour my heart, soul, and spleen out to anybody--I can't even say anybody who would listen--it was more like anybody who would stand right there instead of running as fast as they could in the opposite direction. Fast food cashiers were always a captive audience. They're paid to stand right there. "Hi, may I take your order?"
"I'll have a number two value meal, but boy, you just don't know. If I could order what I really want, I would be able to be done with these shots. They are such a pain in the butt. Literally. That was a funny joke, but I could see why you wouldn't get it. But, boy, if you had to go run to the doctor three times a week, and give blood, and then wait those agonizing hours for the nurse to hopefully not forget to call you to tell you what dose to take... I don't know. I guess you haven't been there...You're like, what? In eighth grade?"
"Would you like apple pie with that ma'am for a dollar more?"
So this veterinarian, that I mentioned about an hour ago, gave me the ol': "I couldn't get pregnant right away either. You need to get away. Go on a vacation. That's what we did" bit of bs advice.
And I listened. And I responded. And I listened. And I processed..... Now I ask myself politely: WHY????
What I should have done was said: "I'm forty-one now. My infertility issues are age-related. So if I go on vacation and come back two weeks older, how is that helping?" What I really should have said was: "Fk you, give me my cat back!"
This is the problem that we really need to overcome: It's not so much about not being disappointed in how people respond to our fertility issues--- It's about not sharing our fertility issues with the whole world in the first place! That rule alone would eliminate a lot of the craziness and confusion we feel from idiotic responses.
When you finally decide on a select few to blab too, feel them out....Don't expect that just because they're good shopping buddies and confidantes that this will be an issue they'll be helpful with. I remember the actor George Hamilton saying once that he dated different women because one was great to go skiing, but when he took her to parties, she was a dial tone.
Okay, so, forget about the "womanizing" message. My cousin once told me the same thing when I was single: "There's no man who's going to give you every single thing you need." And the same goes with friends.
Listen, I gotta go. It's Friday...need I say more?
I'll talk with ya again on Monday.