Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Infertility Wound

    I occasionally wonder what type of wound infertility is akin to.  I like comparisons, so say in bodily injuries people always say the death of someone close is like losing a part of themselves (some say a left hand, their heart, their eyes whatever.) I've had people close to me die so I understand that comparison.
    I was thinking earlier maybe infertility is like a bruise. I've found myself semi-cripplingly depressed lately.  Crippling enough that I absolutely resent having to do anything that doesn't involve hiding in bed or on the couch all alone, but semi-crippling enough that peer pressure makes me do things, I just resent it.
    For example, I tried to get out from under it yesterday and bought stuff to bake. Today, I still have a lot of stuff I planned to bake underway, and I said I'd bake the stupid Martha Stewart uber-pain-in-the-ass cupcakes. Today, I wish I could just throw those stupid gala apples away so I don't have to shred 5 of them and then do all the other unnecessary crap she included in the recipe. I don't even want a stupid cupcake now. I just want water and crackers.
    I also got all "I should exercise!" because quite honestly cardio kickboxing sounds awesome.  Last night they cancelled it and I found myself in a substitute class called BodyVive! yes, the exclamation mark is part of the name. It was a lot of senseless bouncing to horrible techno club remixes of songs I already don't like. I lasted like 30 minutes, because I didn't want to look like a loser when I scooted between bouncing middle-aged women on my way to get my water bottle.  After thirty minutes of the perky lady up front asking if we're ready to set the world on fire while bouncing and giving me a nauseating camp counselor smile I mentally say, "F*ck this," and hit the road.
    I'm depressed as shit lately, I just don't want to be, I don't want to do, I don't want to deal, and I sure as hell don't want to bounce around to techno remixes while my yoga pants get twisted and give me a front wedgie. No thank you.
    I can't quite figure out which injury you would equate infertility to though. I have this bruise on my head from attacking an open cupboard door with my head, and it hurts. I keep pushing on it because it is a noticeable hurt. I know why it hurts, I know how it happens, and if I said, "My head hurts because I cracked my head on the cupboard door and for some reason I'm an asshole and keep pushing on it," then people would understand the kind of hurt it is. They would sympathize up until I say I keep pushing on it even.  They could feel the big welt that is to the 4 o'clock of my messy bun.
    So that being said it probably isn't a bruise, I thought maybe a bruise on your head if you have hair, because it hurts like hell, but other's can feel it.  Even if they can't feel the pain they can feel your lumpy scalp.  It isn't a knee bruise, because that leaves a visible mark.
    I thought for a minute maybe it was like those phantom pains people with an amputated limb have where their non existant hand hurts and cramps.  It isn't that though either, because everyone can see where the limb was and everyone is sad the limb isn't there and they sort of look at you and wonder if you are a veteran or if maybe you got in some gnarly accident that you have a traumatic and crazy story about.
     I really can't find the parallel to infertility. There is nothing like it that I've experienced up to this point.  I had a crap childhood, I've buried friends, I've had my dog die, my cat die, I've dislocated and broken things, I've been homesick, and had my husband overseas for a year but this is a new hurt.
     I don't like new things, really, I really really don't like change or new things.  That is probably why this will continue to be a sad blog for a while, not because I think making other people sad is fun, but since this is a new thing I don't know how to verbally explain it to other people.  The best I can do is be semi-raw here (like when you defrost a roast but the middle is still frozen, heyyyyy-oooo told you I like comparisons) because if I don't have the words or the comfort level, and I really don't feel like I have the right either, to explain how crappy I feel to my friends and family when they ask.
     A lot of my friends are eating a shit sandwich in life right now, one just broke off her engagement, another has a crazy mother that makes her life hell, and I try my hardest to listen and be nice and be there.  I just wish I had the ability to explain that I'm really really really sad and torn up too and spend a while talking about why this sucks and actually get them to understand.  Of course I have people (actually person) in my life who are going through infertility too, and she's a fucking god-send.  It just sucks to have to see all these people you're super close to day in and day out and not be able to yell for a life-saver.
     So that being said, I will survive. I'm going to go bake the stupid whole-wheat bread bowls I said I'd make yesterday. They'll be stupid and I'll resent them but I'll make the stupid bread bowls.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thank you for taking the time to comment!