Sure shot...the big sister of infertility...

As the sun rises on today, my sister will start her second week of IVF treatments. This means, that for the past week or so, every day, her husband has been giving her shots that will increase the follicles in her ovaries (where the eggs live)...so that hopefully later this week they can reach in, swipe the eggs and get to work. 

...i make light of this, because that's what I do...but really...it's a fairly harrowing process. Not just because she's been getting shot up with hormones like crazy or because her ovaries are the size of oranges...but also because it's mind-wrecking emotionally. There are no guarantees. This could all be for nothing. 

I really never knew or completely understood my sister and her husband's desire to start a family. Our parents were married for 5 years before they started a family, so for a long time, I just assumed they were enjoying the relative carelessness of youth and the spoils of having two incomes and no children. Perhaps I should have asked more questions...

What I didn't know is that behind the scenes and quietly, they'd been trying for several years. Nothing was going correctly and by last year they were getting medical professionals involved. 

She didn't tell anyone. Which I suppose is somewhat normal. But as the big sister, this makes it somewhat hard to be supportive. 

But it must have been painful, watching her friends have kids and having them ask, "so when you are you two going to start a family?" Going to baby shower after baby shower, kids birthday parties, christenings, the entire gambit...and quietly and painfully want all of this for yourself. 

It was not until a year ago I was even aware that the project was even in progress...much less experiencing some hiccups. Even then,  she made it very clear that she wasn't all that able to talk about it. So I would ask, from time to time, what was going on and if she needed anything...but it was hard...I didn't want to catch her in a moment that would upset her...so I probably didn't ask as much as I could have or supported her as much as I should have. 

Fast forward to recently, as IUI treatments (where doctors try to "help" everything along) had failed and it became apparent that this project was going to be more complicated than planned...my sister is starting the process to "juice up" her body...in hopes that they can swipe some viable eggs, inject with viable sperm and create little embryos...from there they will return those to my sister, hope they attach and that project baby can be labeled a success.

Except it's not just that easy...

From what I am learning, it's a painful, mindwracking and invasive procedure.

...It's also a lonely one...

...and one with no guarantees...

In order to have a chance at having a baby, there are shots and ultrasounds and doctors appointments on doctors appointments. Bloodwork and testing and getting very aquatinted with one's reproductive system.

And it's not exactly something you can talk about. So while my sister is emotionally charged up and full of enough hormones to make the worst PMS seem laughable; she still must, for the most part, continue to function in the regular world, go to work and deal with people who have no idea that what she's going through. While her emotions are completely out of whack, she doesn't have the pleasure of posting up away from people and sparing them from her mood swings.

She's also a pincushion at this point, getting multiple shots every night...even with ice and care and just in general getting used to it...she's bruised and uncomfortable. If you think about the most recent time you had to get a shot at the doctors office...and how the area bruised up around where you got the shot and probably how you complained and whined around the shot hurting and the area being tender...multiply that by three and then think about getting that EVERY NIGHT for 7-10 days...in the stomach. Ouch.

So she's bruised, bloated, tired and pumped full of hormones. What about this sounds fun? Nothing. But these are the lengths my sister, and thousands of other women, are willing to go through for a person that doesn't exist yet.

All I can say is...to my future niece/nephew...your parents want you...you do not even exist yet and they already love you and they are already sacrificing for you. When you are teenager, filled with angst and angry at your parents...You can call up your aunt and say a million things...your mother is crazy...(I'll agree) your mother is a pain in the ass and trying to ruin your ability to have fun...(which may or may not be true.)

But, if you ever come close to saying the words "My mother doesn't love me." I'll stop you right there. Your mother and father love you intensely...and as I type this, you do not yet exist! Your parents love you so much that all the shots, the pain, the exhaustion seem WORTH it. Just for you! You little special baby! You are so lucky, you're getting the apex of all that love from two people who want nothing more than for you to exist.

(and you're getting a pretty incredible aunt too...it's a packaged deal)

Her husband doesn't get off easily either. Besides the jokes about having to deal with my sister, who on her WORST days operates at 110%...he's the one who has to inject her. Imagine the difficulty of doing something you know is going to hurt your wife...even if it carries with it a (hopefully) positive end.

As the sister who is on the outskirts of these issues, I am coming to terms with my own feelings on the issue. Or moreover, making sense of a problem my little sister has which I cannot do anything to fix. As a qualified older sibling, it's been in my DNA for 36 years to help my sister. Driving to Bloomington with new contacts when she cried so hard about some boy she tore hers...helping her decorate her first apartment, her dorm, her first live out house...playing patsy to our parents when she was in high school. The stuff big sisters do. Fix things. Make things easier. Clear the path.

...and on this issue...I can't fix anything or make anything easier. I've got fairly limited options when it comes to helping my sister feel better about this situation...and i'm exercising ALL of them.

It's humbling, frustrating and harrowing to be useless. I find myself in a hard spot, for most of this past few weeks, it's been on my mind constantly and yet, I have almost no idea what to say. The majority of the time, I'm convinced I'm saying the wrong thing. Although I'm assured there isn't a wrong thing to say...I'm not sure I believe it.

We have had our laughs. My sister and I share the same flair for being somewhat ridiculous. This situation has allowed us to up the ante on ridiculous. Each day, I send her a song regarding "shots"...(see: I shot the Sheriff, SHOTS, Shot Caller, Shot through the Heart, Hit me with your best Shot, Sure  Shot) and she's making a "fertility playlist"...It's been sort of a bonding thing. At first, I was unsure if it was welcomed, but then she emailed me and said she needed that days song...so in some way...my wacky musical knowledge serves some point.

I can serve some purpose.

But it's hard...I can't do this for her or make it better. I can give her all the support, humor and love I can...but that's it. They have to face the hard questions and do the heavy lifting. (One strange question which came up, if this is all successful and they freeze embryos, what happens if they both perish in an accident. It's a serious question and one that requires some thought...but also one which has to be countered with some humor. I offered to grow little "Frankenbabies" if all else failed. I've been assured I'll never have to make that decision and furthermore, I feel like I found the topic for Jodi Picoult's next book)

And I truly don't completely get it. I've never felt the intense desire to have a baby. It is an emotion that skipped me. Rarely have I ever found myself longing for children. So in some ways, I truly have to think outside myself to understand how someone would want this so much they would be willing to go to this extreme. That's been humbling for me, as a sister and a person.

It's taught me a new way to look at things and a new way to ask questions. I never realized how insensitive certain questions could be...it never occurred to me the wave of despair I may be creating just by asking "are you thinking about starting a family." I've learned that this is a question better left un-asked until brought up by someone.

Here's a tip. Never ask a woman questions about starting a family. As much as you should never ask a woman if she is pregnant, you should also never ask a women when she is going to be pregnant. It's sort of irrelevant information for you anyway. Family having decisions require a mother and a father...not a mother and father and a chorus of casual observers.

We're learning through this and as my sister and my life long best friend, we'll love through this too. We will celebrate what there is a to celebrate and mourn as needed and necessary...But mostly, we will keep moving forward and keep loving forward.

...and no matter what...we'll keep our sense of humor and flair for ridiculous.

Message not recieved

Sometimes I mention to my friends how ridiculous and strange the texts that Smash sends me are. (and they are strange)...

and the first question they usually have is, "Why don't you have him blocked."

I have a long and drawn out answer for that...but it boils down too..."because I don't want too."

Which makes no sense to some people, but all the sense in the world to others. I suppose it boils down to how much you've been hurt in the relationship field of play. 

When I first found out about the craigslist emails, I was understandably devastated. Our relationship WAS shitty, even without this new twist and I WAS unhappy...but part of me felt like I had fought so hard for this practicular brand of unhappiness, so in a way it became my cross to bear. I would tolerate and deal with the lies and cheating. I would put a bright face on his general lack of empathy towards me and I would smile through all the times that I felt devalued. No matter how many times I actually teared up during sex or cried myself to sleep because he was withholding affection or just plain being mean...I fought for this relationship, ignored all the people who thought differently...

I bet the house on wildcards...I shouldn't have been a surprise that a house of cards will blow over and leave a big mess in their wake. 

At that point, I did have him blocked. Because I was too fragile to deal with his messages and too angry to process them. 

and he started emailing me. And the emails were harder to take than a text message. 

...slowly, we started to talk again in secret. Mostly about things about the house that we still shared a lease on...but over time, we started talking again. In a shaky, secretive way. 

When that imploded, I blocked him again, because I did NOT want to talk to him. 

...and then there was the day when he just showed up the house and I had to deal with him without any advance warning. He claimed to have texted me, which I did not get, naturally. Having him standing in my living room with no warning was a talespin, one I vowed to not have happen again. (Locks changed, thank you very much) If he's going to show up in my neighborhood...and means to tell me about it. I want to know. If only so I can barricade myself in my house.

Since then, I have left him unblocked. 

There have been a few times when we have exchanged messages and truthfully, I have never seen him again. 

But mostly, I receive the messages and ignore them. I learned, the hard way, that he is oddly turned on by my being rude to him via text messages, so it's best to ignore them. 

In the year that has transpired since our relationship dissolved, I have worked very hard to change the variables of my life. I extracted myself from a painful work situation and found a much more rewarding one. I have spent time re-claiming all the friendships that I alienated either because I was too miserable from work or too miserable from Smash. I have spent time reclaiming the most important relationship- the one I have with myself. 

And while this is all a work in progress, I look back at pictures of myself from a year ago around this time and compare them to recent pictures. Gone is the girl who's smile always looks a little bit forced.  Missing from my own face is the vague look of someone who has given up and accepted their fate. It's somewhat astonishing to compare. 

And I don't have Smash blocked on my phone. This is by choice. I want to know; need to know, that my not responding to Smash is a choice I'm making. A choice for me, a choice for my future and a choice for my own happiness. Ignorance may be bliss, but for my own evolution, I need to know that these are choices I am making and not my reaction to things that are happening to me. 

These days I'll stack the deck with wildcards, but not build a house on it. 

The only thing I'm betting on these days is me...and I'll bet the house on that.

Crazy? I was Crazy Once...

"...And then when they encounter someone who has actually lived, they are not really sure how to handle it and walk away calling the girl nuts when the reality is she lived through at some point was nuts. Not her..."

-Gucci last night in the midst of our therapy/olivia pope session.

For someone that I have not even seen since the second month of the year, Smash is doing a hell of a job continuing to fuck with my life. And not only because he sends me strange text messages at strange hours for seemingly no particular reason. He's actually managed to fuck with my actual life...and I didn't have to see him or talk to him for it to happen. 

It was all in my mind. 

I've noted that at this stage in my life, it's pretty hard to meet someone. I've been set up on dates by friends and upon arrival I feel the need to reassess my friendships...thinking only, "what...in the world...made you think...that we would have something in common...." so that route has not panned out for me and quite frankly...it's been pretty lonely in my world. 

there is only so much pintresting and drinking one can do before one must re-evaluate their life choices. As the summer has waned on and with all the professional drama that inhabited the early part of my summer...it's pretty safe to say that i was there. 

so i met this guy...Buttercup...with a little help from a dating website...and he was normal...and he liked to do stuff and talk about things! and talk about things and do stuff...simply put...i quickly developed quite a little crush on him and seemingly, he did the same. Since we met, we'd spent a disproportional  amount of time together...and it was going well....

and then...i jinxed it. 

I headed out to the land of Rum and Ganja for the Royal Wedding last week. Honestly, spent the trip in equal thirds. Text-Flirting Buttercup/Thinking about Buttercup/Wishing I had met Buttercup just a few weeks earlier and I would have brought him with me to the Royal Wedding. While spending my days practicing being a pirate by partaking in rum drinks prior to 10 am and I was coming to the conclusion that I when I got home...I was going to need to spill the beans that I was pretty smitten. 

Fast forward to actually getting home, American Airlines loosing my bag, finding my bag and loosing it again, coupled with an early day of travel and no food, by the time I saw Buttercup...well...i wasn't the nicest person. He was sort of in the same boat...having had a long meeting and not having eaten either...and we had a little tiff...

it should have been over there...because it was stupid and silly and a bunch of miscommunications. 

...and then...I went crazy...got PTSD if you will. In the midst of the conversation something that was said sounded so damn much like something Smash would say that the lines became blurry and suddenly, I wasn't discussing things with Buttercup...

Oh no, now I was fighting with Smash...and in fighting with Smash, one was always fighting, in general, for their lives. 

Smash claims to very easy going...which is not true. Smash is only easy going because he ignores anything anyone asks of him that he does not want to do...or is quick to point out how one is unreasonable for even asking. 

Me: "Smash, since we're both traveling now, I would really appreciate it if when you leave and I'm not here if you would make sure to leave the house clean. If you can't do that, can you at least tell me? It was upsetting to me to come home to dishes that had been in the sink for 2 weeks and dirty dishes in the dishwasher."

Smash: "Well sometimes you leave the house messy and I don't say anything."

Well then, since this is already starting out on a kick of maturity...

and the fights would start there. With him ignoring me and dismissing me. With me asking for a partnership and him informing me that I had no say in the matter and that he would prefer to do exactly what he wanted, exactly when he wanted and would accept absolutely zero in the way of requests otherwise. 

...and the only way to remedy that was for me to up the ante. To kick it in high gear and repeat myself again and again until I was blue in the face and then he would finally hear me...or at least then he would finally notice...and occasionally, he'd change courses. 

This is NOT a healthy way to conduct disagreements, nor is it remotely acceptable in the adult world. However, I can't say we were all that squarely in the adult world. I mean, Smash was still allowing his parents to give him money for bills. 

It was, however, the only thing that worked.

So, for those playing along at home...the only way for me to have any say in any situation was for me to literally get mad enough to loose my shit...flailing and crying and saying just about anything to try to find words that would get through his thoughtless mind so that he would see me. 

I hated it...but I got used to it. So much so that I started to skip the part where I would actually start to become frustrated and try to have a logical adult conversation and move right to the part where I went off. It was a real timesaver in my life. 

...i'm not proud of it. 

Suffice to say...i have NO idea how to disagree like an adult and have NO practice at it. 

So when my relationship PTSD struck, it was not that I was talking something through with someone who has done me zero wrong...

...I was suddenly fighting a battle in my own head...

and really really pissing off Buttercup. 

I TRULY could not help myself. I was so riled up and angry I cleaned the entire house. I was stewing and moving around fueled by anger. 

and poor Buttercup bore the brunt of my rage and he didn't really do anything. 

Very fair of me. 

I've said numerous times that I was going to fuck things up with the next person i dated...and I certainly did. and I have to own that. 

Upon returning to the real world, I forced myself to re-read the texts I had been sending and try to remember the words that  I venomously spit from my mouth. As I read and remembered my own words, my stomach dropped. I had become that person that I hated, the one I have been afraid would pop up again. The one that was constantly fighting for her place in the relationship. 

...and not a single part of that had ANYTHING to do with the conversation I was actually having. It was the misspent words of me fighting an old fight, in the only manner I ever knew how to fight it. The moment that I felt like I didn't have any control, whether real or imagined, I fought as hard as I could to get it back. 

The only problem was, this wasn't Smash on the other end of the conversation. This was someone who actually IS an adult. Someone who actually now thinks I'M not one. 

and I can't blame him. 

And I spent the entire day being horribly embarrassed for my behavior and wishing that the conversations had happened over cocktails i could blame them on. Nope. not so lucky. I can only blame me...

...But I blame Smash, for once again silently reaching in and fucking up something for me. Something good. He must have happiness radar or something. 

In the end Buttercup said he needed time to think about what happened and that we'd talk when I get back from my business trip. Truthfully, I know there's a 90% chance I'll never hear from him again. I can't say I blame him. He's probably thinking "Dodged a bullet there with that crazy bitch."

But i'm not...i mean really, i'm not. My reality has, at times, been seriously crazy...but for all of it, I like to think i've held it together pretty well. Sometimes better than others. 

I'm going to have to learn my jump points and where I start to loose it, so that I can see the warning signs of an impending collision and correct my steering. I need to learn to be an adult in a relationship...not a little girl fighting for relevancy. A woman building a relationship, not a woman begging for one. 

Adulting...something I need to learn about a decade into being an adult. 

Do they host remedial classes on the topic? If so, can a girl get a course guide?

thoughts i'm having

1) I'm dating someone. Not like, "hey I went on a date"...but like dating. Dating is hard. Dating is a little frustrating, especially when you're hardheaded and have had your own way for a while. I think i've pretty much screwed up dating for myself.

2) I'm starting to have abs. I'm obsessed with them. 

3) American Airlines has nice employees, but overall, can suck it. 

4) Smash texts me. I'd block him, but I sort of need to control of not responding. But mostly, I laugh. What do we need to talk about?

5) I'm tanner than I have been in 10 years. From actually going outside. Who knew?

6) I need to clean the house. It appears that the moment I finish cleaning the house, it's time to do it again. 

7) I need a louder stereo for when I'm really angry or really happy. 

That is all.