Oh, I was wrong. Today, cycle day 20, my ovulation predictor kit showed me a line so pink it was nearly blinding. Since ovulating is something new to my body and I never get two lines on ovulation predictor tests, I have said to myself for the past few days, “Ahh, now that’s what I’m looking for. Certainly this time it means I’ll ovulate in the next 24 to 36 hours.” I can put my foot down today and say without a doubt that it WILL happen in the next 24-36 hours. The test line is much much darker than the control line. I hate DIY cycles.
As a result of my disdain for head scratching while staring at a stick I just urinated on, I picked up the phone and called Dr. Local’s office. For the cost of $125 I can go in and be told definitively whether or not I am ovulating. Ha! Take that you silly little predictor test! You are so much not smarter than me!
I feel like in the past we were bumbling down this rugged dirt road in the hot sun in a horse and buggy towards the far off destination of parenthood. When we started working with our RE, it felt like we upgraded to a luxury sedan and hit the highway. What I didn’t know is that even on the highway, there are endless ways to get lost. Today I feel like I’m attempting to read a map while looking for my exit, running thirty minutes late, and my cell phone is ringing. What I really want is my co-pilot, Dr. Local, back in the car with me and my husband. Peace of mind is worth every penny.
***********
Yesterday was a wonderful day, and I greatly enjoyed my day with Southern Sister. We snagged lunch and later Starbucks. What I learned was that I am never too old to climb through tunnels, toss around blow up balls, try on sunglasses, and hula hoop in the toy store! Totally hilarious!
In the evening, I went to my parents’ house to water their plants, and their neighbor R and his two boys were over an in the pool. They have open invitations, and we all enjoy their company. So, I plopped down in a poolside chair and chit chatted away with R. He asked how things were going infertility wise, and I gave him the rundown. I told him about ovulating and how excited we are about something so small. He looked at me and said, “Well, what are you doing out here talking to me? Get in there and take care of some business!” I laughed a good belly laugh, and smiled. I did have to go in and eat dinner, but we spent the late afternoon talking and enjoying neighborly camaraderie.
The phone rang just after we all called it an evening, and it was Southern Sister. I had called and left her a message earlier about a medical question, and she was returning my call. She ended our conversation with, “I’m so excited about all the doings and such going on in your world.” I responded with a very giddy, “Me too! Ooooh, and that reminds me we need to um…handle that situation.” “What?! You haven’t done that yet? Get on it girl! I’m hanging up then, and don’t you call me back until you are good and fertilized!” she informed me.
I thought about yesterday, and how these two social situations shape my drive down in the Infertile Highway. I feel like I have a whole group of cheerleaders supporting Justin and me in our journey. They don’t feel it is odd to ask questions about anatomy or hormones, bring up reproduction, and are just plain supportive of us. (Um, this is not to say we haven’t suffered a great deal of frustration when it comes to those who are just never going to get it or just don’t care to get it, haven’t lost a great number of friends, or suffered from those who are cursed with stupid statement syndrome.) It has become a natural and normal part of our human interactions. Shouldn’t it be this way for every infertile woman? Shouldn’t she be able to comfortably say, “Damn it, it looks like I’m not going to ovulate this month again” to her friends and family? Of course, in a perfect world, they would respond with an, “I’m sorry this is so hard for you.” If infertility wasn’t such a taboo topic, many women and couples would benefit.
Having friends and family who move out of their own comfort zone in an effort to support their friends trekking down the Infertile Highway turns the journey from a thirty mile trip studded with traffic jams and pot holes in a run down car with a busted air conditioner and radio into a thirty mile trip in a car with a group of your best friends who are singing loudly and much off key to the classics on your XM Radio in the comfort of air conditioning while having a good hair day. That’s what I wish for every woman dealing with infertility.
That’s what yesterday taught me. I can be the woman laughing in the toy store while hula hooping AND be the woman discussing ovulation predictor kits with a friend. I am allowed to have good days and bad days. I am allowed to move between the topics of current events or fashion to follicle counts and blood draws. This shouldn’t be taboo. This is a part of who we are, and I wish that so many of you could experience the love and support you deserve and need. Perhaps some day, right?
