Marching Time

I'm here.
I'm there. (Hee! Hee! Yes that's me)
I'm nowhere in particular. I'm okay.
Quite okay!

I've been shopping. I've been working. I've been rolling with the punches. I've been taking long baths & listening to my Olivia Newton-John CD. I idolised that gorgeous woman as only a 70's child could. The bathroom is such a great place to belt out "Little More Love" "Magic" and "Suddenly"....floating around and marvelling at such great acoustics !
I've been hanging out with my girlfriends alot. A gaggle of us are going Ice-Skating tomorrow! Not exactly a national sport here in Oz! Quite the novelty!
I'm glad to report that I've been getting on with my husband. No fleeing of late.
And of course I've been reading blogs. So much happening, my Twisted Sisters! As always. I am captivated, enraptured, despairing & admiring you all. Milenka (Oh! joyous joy!) Jenny, Nina (thanks for teaching me how to swear in Swedish!) Drew, Lut, Thalia, Bugs, Em, Mellie, Beth, Sara & Donnie (best new Mum photo EVER) All of you on my list...no need to mention everyone I suspect! My team. I keep tabs daily even when Mrs Negative is quiet.

(If you're not on my blogroll please let me know if you'd like to be added)

I had an interesting interaction with the elderly lady who lives behind us last week. She keeps to herself mostly & our infrequent conversations are usually polite but brief. She asked me how we are getting on with our IVF. I told her our last attempt was unsuccessful but we hoped to try again in June. She commented that perhaps I'd fall pregnant naturally before then. I told her about my fallopian tubes being removed last year hoping that would explain how a natural conception was impossible. She understood alright, going on to reveal that she'd had a complete hysterectomy at age 33.
Wha?
I'd always assumed that the young man who visit's regularly was her son?
Not so.
He's actually her nephew. She was never able to have children. Her late husband would not consider adoption. There was regret in her voice. I was appalled that I'd never known this about my neighbour. I felt a sudden urge to hug her. To touch her hand. I tried to express my understanding as a fellow infertile. It felt a bit feeble. IVF wasn't around in her day, she said. I nodded. I know that I take the wonders of ART for granted. Modern medicine is a gift to my generation. We can dare to dream, knowing that miracles are entirely possible. I told her I would never give up trying for a baby. I was afraid that life without children would leave me forever sad. She smiled and said that the sadness eventually goes. I wanted to believe her. But I swear at that moment I saw a shadow of despair in her eyes. I will make more effort to interact with her in the future. I should have tried harder long ago. Shame on me. Selfish, busy me.

Of course I've been thinking about our 2 frozen embryo's. I keep asking them to be patient. Just chill a bit longer. Until June....and then...and then....we'll meet again.

I think it's time for some Olivia therapy.

Mummy's Girl, Damn it....

I have to say, when it comes to Mother's I got one of the very best. My Mum is adored by everyone who knows her, and with good reason. She is an exceptional woman. Filled to the brim with every delightful, decent & positive trait a person could have. AND on top of that she is hysterically funny, energetic & mischeiveous. I do not hesitate to admit that she is my best friend. But damn it, this week I really shot myself in the foot by being a Mummy's girl.
Here's what went down.
On Tuesday, my long awaited period arrived. I rang our clinic, swallowed my FET medication with gusto and dusted off my battle armour. P & I raised our glasses over dinner and drank to IVF round # 2.
Just 24 short hours later, P & I found ourselves having a full blown marital dispute. Don't even ask. Looking back now the context of our arguement was truly pathetic. Oh, PMS.....why must you rally against sensibility? And just like that our Wednesday evening dissolved into yelling, screaming chaos. With anger & frustration bubbling through my veins I grabbed my handbag & my dog.....and walked out. For good. I was NEVER coming back. It was the first time I've ever left my husband.
It was incredibly empowering.
If not completely insane.
Less than 15 kms away was the refuge of my Mum's house. It had been years since I last did the "Distraught-Daughter-Dash" I couldn't wait to get there. Mum was a little surprised to find me & the dog on her doorstep. I told her I was leaving P & that I would be moving in with her. Yes, of course she mumbled while holding the door open for us. She didn't rush me with too many questions, beside the obvious. Was I okay? Was my husband okay? And did I really run away from home without so much as packing a toothbrush or pyjama's?
Hmmm...well I guess my exit was a little hasty. But I was not going back to my rotten husband, ever.
"Well" said Mum.
"You'd better give me that one outfit off your back so I can wash it & iron it for you to wear to work tomorrow"
I knew Mum would save the day! Great idea! Before I knew it she was offering me a choice of nighties to borrow, grilled cheese on toast was fixed and I settled on the lounge. The dog was a little bewildered by her sudden change of lodgings & I asked her to please stop looking at me like that! Look around Mutt! It's sooo much nicer here! We'll be soooo happy here with my Mummy! You'll love it! Mean old Daddy is just a distant memory.
And that's when it dawned on me that I had stormed out not only completely devoid of any personal belongings but also without my fucking IVF tablets.
Oh.
Oh.
Ohhhhhh!! Bad idea to leave home. Bad, bad idea.

It gets worse.
In my stubborn state of mind I decided that I would not be doing IVF anymore. No more tablets for me! And under no circumstances would I carry a child for my husband anyway.

Hello? Anyone? Help me understand what was I thinking?

I spent 3 days with my Mum. Sleeping in my old room, being spoilt & looked after but also realising P & I were being complete imbecciles. I needed to go home. I have to say I enjoyed the time away from P. It was nice to be someone's daughter instead of someone's wife for a few days. And P enjoyed his respite from his occasionally crazy wife too. Oh, he really missed me. He played golf. Entertained his mates. Watched the football undisturbed. Fell asleep on the lounge in peace. Probably scratched himself stupid without hearing a single "Leave it alone!"
When I eventually arrived home, P surprised me by cleaning the house from top to bottom. I appreciated it. And I do believe I missed him. I definately know I missed my hairdryer. We kissed, we hugged, we apologised. We'd survived our first bust up in 8 years.
"Have you been taking your tablets?" P asked.
I shook my head. I am so disappointed in our behaviour. And now we must suffer our self inflicted delay.

Of all the medication I've taken over the past 4 years this surely is the most bitter pill of all.