Based on the number of people on FB who actually repost those annoying Upworthy links, I’ve decided that they’re the key to catapulting my readership into the thirties of fans. So, next up: The Reasons Why Will Shock You, What Came Next Will Amaze You, and The First Three Sentences of This Blog Post Will Surprise You - The Fourth Will Change Your World.
You read it here first.
Anyway. I’m in an annoying state of limbo at the moment. I had hoped to start IVF in August, but my hysteriosalpingoramamagram (smartly just called the HSG test by the docs) showed that I have a uterine polyp (thanks Tamoxifen!) that needs to be taken care of before I can start IVF. The worst part of this is not just that I then have to wait 30 days after the hysteroscopy to remove it before I can do IVF, but more so that I have to actually say the word polyp. I fricking hate that word. Oh sure, I know some people have issues with words like “moist” or “slacks,” but they’ve got nothing on the word polyp. Yuck. I refuse to use it, and so, henceforth, because we’re really just talking about an annoying bunch of cells/tissue that are probably/hopefully not cancerous, I shall use the word clumpie to refer to said polyp.
So. Once I get Clumpie taken care of, onward it is. Speaking of words, I find it interesting how those of my friends who know what’s going on (which is all of them at this point) couch everything in such delicate terms. No one exactly asks anything along the lines of “So, how it’s going with the random invasive procedures and painfully shooting yourself up with fertility drugs and then dealing with the foolishly optimistic highs followed rapidly by debilitating and soul-crushing lows all while POASing even though you know there’s no chance in hell of success, all as you ponder your rapidly dwindling bank account?”
No, it’s more like “So! How are – you know – ‘things’ going?” With sufficient emphasis on the word “things” and a meaningful raising of eyebrows.
I tend to respond with equal vagueness. “Oh, well, same old, same old. Nothing new.” Because what else is there to say?
And I have yet to actually utter the words “sperm donor” – rather, it’s just “the donor,” as if I’m talking about someone who bequeathed millions to the Daughters of the Revolution. Because it’s just all so…unseemly, really. I’m a modest person as it is, and would rather we all just pretend that I’m preparing for a visit from a stork. Storkie. Yes, that’s it.
That’s how “things” are at the moment. Waiting sucks, because I waver between thinking:
· hey, surely this’ll work on the first try!
· or, what the fuck am I thinking, stuff like this never works out for me.
Followed by the vision of me and The Kone surrounded by cats, many many cats, yelling at kids to get off our lawn.
So there’s that.