Call me Suzy

Back in the day, when I was blissfully unaware that bad things can happen to good people, I wandered throughout life with rose-colored glasses.

Yep, long ago I really was Miss Suzy Sunshine.

The nice thing about living that way is that life (generally) seems to be just full of excitement and wonder, and pressure? almost minimal or non-existent. Failures were just momentary bumps in the road. The idea "there's always a next time" really seemed plausible and in fact, there always was a "next time" right around the corner.

And, with just the right amount of drive and stick-to-it-tiveness, anything was achievable.

And then I grew up.

Scratch that.

I got old.

There's something about entering your 40's that slams the brakes on all of that sunshine. And it has nothing to do with life changing or even the people around us... it has everything to do with the change in ourselves.

Infertility gave me a reason to be bitter, and well, I just took it and ran. Instead of looking at the goodness in my life, all I could see was...

nothing.

Those damn rose-colored glasses turned to grey, and a shitty shade of grey at that. At times, it dimmed e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g.  I was damn-near blind.

Suddenly, in my blindness, I became the self-appointed purveyor of fairness. I was insulted that life dealt me a bad hand, and there was (is?) no remedy for that. If you are a family of 4+ you were a target of my jealousy. If you were a family of 4+ and had the nerve to complain about ANYTHING going on in your life you were a target of my anger. If you took pity on my story and made an ass-backwards remark to me in public to belittle what I experienced or felt? well...

let's just say I prayed the karma police would catch you before I did.

And then I decided one day that I just couldn't carry the anger around anymore. I grew tired of putting myself in a box and labeling it "BREAKABLE: Please Don't Touch." Every day I get a little better. Let's face it, I'll never go back to the person I once was, but I will develop into a different and better version of me.  Eventually.

It's been more than a year since my failed donor egg cycle. When I think back to the feelings of failure then, it saddens me. It DID feel like the world was tipping over. It DID feel like I was never, ever going to heal. I DID feel like a desperate junkie, and when the treatments ended... hell, I felt like I would end too.

But I didn't.

And I am still here.

And I've given up my karma police badge. I've come to terms that good and bad happens every day to everyone. It's not about me being singled out.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again... this journey gave me a gift I would never ever return...

Compassion.

And here I thought I got nothing... 
guess I need to get a new pair of glasses.

Signed,
Miss Suzy Partly Cloudy Sunny

And I Thought Infertility was Bad

How I wish I was here to write about how great life has been lately, and how much I am looking forward to waking up each day with a smile on my face. A post to talk about all the exciting things I've been doing over the last month.

This will NOT be one of those posts.

You have been warned. This will be one of the few times I have ever whined on this blog (outside of talking about infertility).

proceed with caution...

So, immediately after we returned from our idyllic vacation S. got notice his work was officially dunzo.  Great timing indeed.

Now, if you are a reader over the last year... we knew this was coming. Sort of. It didn't happen quite in the way we expected. He's now in a new job that requires him to be away from home 13+ hours each day. And, NO, that doesn't mean a shortened work week. And, yes, we will take a big financial hit. I would love to tell you the details, but out of respect for his privacy, let's just say we are in deep doo-doo. In body and spirit.

I am acting like a petulant toddler, in that, I now basically am "single-mommying" it with the little guy. Which wouldn't be so bad if I WASN'T WORKING my own FT job. And, by full-time I mean more than 60 hours a week.

That, while juggling David's schedule too. Homework, soccer, karate. No more family dinners, and what breaks my heart the most? S. gets to spend about 45 minutes a day with David.

That's it.

Last night we had one of those back to school meetings scheduled for 7pm.  When S. called me from the car at 6:45pm I knew it wouldn't be good news. He was stuck in traffic, and would be late to the event.

My mind quickly went into overdrive, and within nano-seconds I was in full-blown tears, my carefully-applied make-up sliding down my face. Five minutes before I had to leave.

(Thank you Twitter friends for rescuing me last night).

Listen, I know a job is a job. And I know that many people do not have a job. But when I tell you I am THISCLOSE to wanting S. to walk out I am not kidding. He could take a lesser job and make money and be happy. He could be on unemployment. Even extreme circumstances sound good right now.

I can't believe this is where my head is at right now.

I don't even want to get into what I am feeling about my own job. I literally could just sob right into my keyboard and short out my laptop motherboard.

We were spoiled all these years. Now with employment taking the #1 place as the Top Source of Stress in the BagMomma House, I am wistful of the days of just wondering if I'd flunk another cycle around the secondary infertility wheel.

It BLOWS.

Second Thoughts

First day of 2nd grade.

Hard to believe, right?

This year, he was excited to go back to school. Excited to see his friends. We didn't have any tears at all. Just a relaxing morning and walk to the bus stop. Such a change from that first day of kindergarten two years ago!  Remember that?

After I waved goodbye as the bus pulled away, I drove to school to meet him there. I didn't want him to have to navigate the bus with his backpack and a large shopping bag filled with paper towels, tissues, and disinfectant wipes (yeah, in private school we have to stock the school with the odds and ends too).

I stood there for about 30 minutes waiting for the bus to pull in, and while I was meandering I saw about 7 buses drop off kids. The first kids to step off are always the youngest (the bus drivers here are very good about putting them in front). Two kindergartners walked off in tears.  They looked terrifed and scared.

My heart broke, and I think I cried just as much as their moms (secretly, behind my big sunglasses as to not look like a jackass). For kids who aren't even mine! That's a bit tragic that I am wired that way.

By the time David's bus arrived, I was missing him already.

And then he broke my heart.

He ran right past me into the building with his friend and with a sideway glance, said... "MOM, you don't have to follow me."

I followed behind him anyway (ok, the bag WAS the only thing that stopped him and I MAY HAVE slowly handed it off to him on purpose). 

Barely got the chance to snap a quick picture of him scurrying down the hall to his new room.

No looking back.

The Renaissance

I just happened to glance at my sidebar yesterday to realize that today is my blogoversary. Four years of writing in this place.

I'd love to say it went fast, but looking back it really did not. So much happened in the last four years. I guess time goes fast when your having fun, but when you're not...? It moves like the speed of a turtle.  Maybe fun is a bad word.  Life has been fun WITH the exception of the expanding my family part.  That sucked.

This week I had the pleasure of going to my annual GYN visit. Now, if you have been reading my posts over the last few years you know I've had some pretty disturbing visits. I even put off this visit for a few months because I KNEW the practice was moving. Not going back to that old office was a relief of sorts. I don't even remember my visits there prior to having David. All I remembered is the sadness of the visits for each miscarriage. Having had so many and tense/bitter moments there I pondered starting over with a new GYN. But I didn't, and I am glad I did not jump the gun. I have two lovely friends that work there and they scheduled me specifically to get in and out quickly. No loitering in the new waiting room with the large pregnant bellies.

It was the very first visit of a new era of Shelli. There was no talk of infertility or treatment with the doctor (except to say that I am done). Just the standard lady-bits chat.

Now, that I am here, writing this today I look back at the many years of writing, a huge majority of posts were infertility related. A large majority of that cycle related... it's no wonder my posting has slowed over the last year.  My identity is changing.  It's time to put that part of my life aside.

My readership has changed as well. Many of my on-line friends have disappeared, either succeeding in the place I failed at or just grew tired of the blogging medium altogether. I hate to say it out loud, but I know that many of my readers didn't stick around because I was the sad story on the Internet. They grew tired of my cycle failures and miscarriage totals. Who wants to read bad news over and over?? 

Let's face it, there's not much to say at this point. I am sad that they do not come back here to comment. I miss them. The ladies I loved so much moved on too... and I am left pining for the good 'ole days.  Gone are the days when I was lathered in support.  Nowadays I feel like I jilted ex-friend.

For the five or so of you that have held on, thank you. xo  If you are lurking, that's cool, but it would be nice to have you delurk so I know you are still here.

While I will still be writing an occasional infertility post now and then, I am moving on. To what I don't know. I am not abandoning my blog, but there will be a time of reinvention this year. A renaissance of sorts. I guess I need to change too, it's not doing me any good to not change.

As a first step, I am removing the infertility stats from my sidebar. I can't stand looking at them anymore. It is just a giant sign of failure I need not be reminded of. It will relocate to my "Infertility Diaries" page accessible above for those who wish to know the history of me.

Sigh...I didn't mean for this post to be negative.

Nobody likes a party pooper.  I'm just feeling melancholy today.  I've done a good job of censoring myself here, but who am I censoring for now anyway?  It's time to change.  This I know.

The reality is I love to write.  I will keep writing, and for awhile it might seem a little disjointed... but that's where I am.  I hope you will all stay, but I understand if you cannot.

Strangely, it seems I have ended up where I started four years ago...  which I guess really isn't so bad.  Just different.