Scene: toilet cubicle, pub. I'm rummaging in my handbag.
Me (to body) : So what was that about, all that nausea?
Body: (shrugs shoulders in a sulky way)
Me: I mean, I still feel green and spewy. Should I be seeing a gastroenterologist?
Body: Maybe it's in your head.
Me: Oh - in *my* head? Physical symptoms?
Body: (shrugs again) Even after a negative test result you wouldn't believe it.
Me: I took it 4 days early, so it was only 74% accurate.
Body: I thought testing early was supposed to shortcut all this drama.
Me : No, I'm afraid not. Last time I trust that theory. Or you and your "symptoms".
Body: (dissolves into a weeping hormonal mess)
Me: You really wanted that test to be wrong didn't you?
Body: (nods)
Me: Yeah, me too. I'm sorry I called you a weepy hormonal mess.
Body: I'm sorry I implied you were delusional.
Me: (glares for a second) Hmph. Speaking of which, I should probably stop talking to you as though you had a separate consciousness.
Body: Oh yes. But remember, you promised blue cheese and oysters if this happened?
Me: Yes yes. Enjoy it while you can, we're on again in November.
(I finally find something small and white - not edelweise - in the side inside pocket of my handbag.)
Yep, it's day one again, and even though it is the first month we've tried since losing Z, it still feels like groundhog's day. And as philosophical as I can be in my head about percentages and buying our lottery ticket, flipping our coin and whatever stupid metaphor you want to use, I'm still crushed because I'm a dirty hope addict, and I really did think something miraculous might happen. Bugger.
Shed Love
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It is at this time of year, when I can fling open the doors to my shed that
I probably love it most. In the winter I love it because it is cosy, but
the...
7 years ago
Sigh. At least you have other Hope Addicts like me to commiserate with. I guess this blog is your Hope Anonymous. I'm SOOO sorry. It hurts every damn time. Eff reproduction sometimes. It just isn't fair.
ReplyDeletei can't believe you and your body can make up like that. mine holds a grudge for weeks.
ReplyDeletebah humbug to the white.
Hi E, that was quick! Yep, I definitely need my Hope Anonymous. Thanks for commisserating. xxxh
ReplyDeleteBionic - ha - yes - I'm not sure how realistic this truce is. But I did feel less angry with my body when I suddenly thought, you poor thing, you probably really do want to be pregnant too.
ReplyDeletefrom one dirty hope addict to another...shitballs. That is sucky news. You kind of feel like after all that's happened, all that you've lost, this should be a sure thing. At least that's how I feel/felt...
ReplyDeleteHope is such a bastard. I'm sorry, though.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry, hon. Hang on to that hope. the universe owes you.
ReplyDeletethanks suzy. I love the word 'shitballs'. It has a good ring to it.
ReplyDeleteI know, I get sucked into the 'fairness' calculations, but have to remind myself, the universe isn't fair. It is just one big random, arbitrary universe.
Thanks N - agree!
ReplyDeletePomegranate - didn't see your comment before I responded to Suzy - bloody universe never honours its IOUs!
Hope can be such a rotten tease and a bitch. I'm sorry you are having to wait to get that positive.
ReplyDeleteOh, sweet - I'm so sorry. Sending so much love right now, and crossing everything for next time.
ReplyDeleteIn about 4 days time I'll have my 6th groundhog day since losing Freddie. And I keep telling myself that even though the girls were conceived like a dream, he took 9 months, so I get to do that number again before anyone, me or body, sulks. But I do sulk. Big time. I never wanted to do this again. It sucks. It should be the law that DBMs get to conceive easily.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry :(
oh bugger. do you need us to drop around chocolate? coffee? sushi? unpasteurised cheese?
ReplyDeleteI second the shitballs (also one of my favorite expletives!)
ReplyDeleteThere are worse things in the world than being addicted to hope:)
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry that you didn't get that positive.
Oh geesh. That hope addiction is a hard one to crack and my body and I have had many conversations along these lines.
ReplyDeleteI'm going to join the trend . . . .shitballs. Sorry my dear and I truly wish that your hope addiction pays off next time round.
@ Kristin - thanks - hope is such a tease, isn't she?
ReplyDelete@ Ping - thanks love. xx
@ Merry - yes - I tried to have the same kind of no-sulking clause but then hope gets its claws into me, and sulking inevitably results. I had a dream I went onto an alien ship (it was friendly - an exchange programme) and they said, would you like to have a baby? And I said yes, and they said, okay, it should take about two days, is that alright? And I was stunned, but very happy to agree to that. That is how it should be for DBMs - we should all be given alien technology so that we can have babies in 2 days. Yes? Wishing you lots of luck and an end to these bloody groundhogs days.
@ Sorensen - will be indulging in all of the above until we get on the roundabout again - will come & share!
@ Schro - thanks. Just saying 'shitballs' actually makes me feel better. I should market it as an anti-depressant.
@ Brianna - Agree! But it is still a painful addiction, even if it doesn't leave you with track-marks.
@ Catherine W - thanks dear.
Gah, those symptoms! What are they all about? It's harder to have a trusting relationship with your body when it leads you on like that.
ReplyDeleteHope is what keeps you going. And blue cheese.
Big hugs.
Wow I started quite the trend eh? I don't even remember writing that, so clearly it was some sort of divine intervention working through me to pass on the message of crass words as anti-depressants ;)
ReplyDeleteOh and the universe and I are not on speaking terms at the moment. If only we could cash in those IOUs, right?