Reconnecting with your Hubby

I was actually working on a totally different blog post earlier today, but then I got sucked into the vortex that is my WP Reader, leading me down the rabbit hole from one blog to another until I came upon some type of “blog post gone viral” etc – I’ll spare you the boring details (which you may have stumbled upon yourself already anyway).

But I felt compelled to re-post a list on a blog that, really, was a response to the viral post and that I found kind of cute – as well as a great reminder for all of us struggling with IF to “stop and smell the roses” (obviously some will be less appropriate for those of us trying to scrape together every last cent we can get our hands on to afford ARTs – my own comments are in italics):

23 Things You Can Do With Your Husband Regardless of Age

1. Have safe sex, however often you want. It’s a wonderful concept. I know, I know – if you’ve been TTC for any amount of time with no BFP, this becomes a chore. You stop feeling sexy. You stop thinking of sex as fun because now it’s work. But there’s something to be said for going back to basics, reconnecting on a more spiritual level and (trying) to bring some romance back to the bedroom 🙂

2. Get a passport and travel- a honeymoon, or even just a vacation. In this case, due to inevitable budgetary constraints, I like the idea of just making time for a date – the kind where you dress nicely, go out to a restaurant, maybe see a movie. Or just walk, hand in hand, in a park, on a beach, get a coffee – just pause and make time for just “you and me”.

3. Run around the house naked. It’s more fun than sitting in a boring window. Hehehe, ahem – I don’t think I need to elaborate on that. Except that instead of just running around, you could play tag. No laser guns required. 😉 

4. Get a tattoo that has meaning for both of you. Not for me, personally – but that makes a lot of sense, I imagine, especially for people with angel babies (hope I’m using the correct term here).

5. Explore somewhere new with your best friend, instead of alone. Assuming you’re not both working yourself to a nub to make enough money for IVF. This one is on my to-do list before DH and I become literally home-bound by our “need” to economize. Who says exploring needs to be expensive? Just check out a new part of town etc. 

6. Pick up a new hobby together. Mmm, that’s a toughie. Maybe a “healthy” hobby – like cooking, hiking, biking, swimming? Preferably a FREE one.

7. Start a family if you want. If you don’t, then wait. Yeah…ok, I guess I could’ve just deleted this one because I was sorely tempted to say “uhm…instead of waiting, have your ovarian reserve checked and a basic SA done. Stat. Forewarned is forearmed. And you know what, while you’re still blissfully unaware – why not have some eggs and sperm frozen. You know, just in case.”

8. Make out. At least you know where his mouth has been. LOL I kind of love her approach on this one – it was in response to the original blogger suggesting you should make out with a stranger. But then, when you’re in your early 20s and aren’t attached to anyone – don’t most dates or boyfriends start out as strangers, technically? Either way I agree with her, making out with my hubby is the least “chore-like” part of struggling with IF. 

9. Decorate your house/apartment with Pinterest projects you did together. I have a better idea: make projects from Pinterest, then sell them at an IF or adoption fundraiser. Because, really? You need the money.

10. Get a couples massage. Things are more fun with your best friend. Or, get acupuncture together. Although a massage sounds pretty darn good right about now – all that stress and constant worrying, panicking etc is really turning my neck muscles into a stale pretzel.

11. Sign up for CrossFit together. Or just workout together period. Once upon a time, the words “workout” made you smirk because you weren’t thinking about a gym, you were thinking about getting horizontal with Mr. Perfect (your hubs). But I’m definitely in favor of physical activity in tandem – which, btw, is rumored to multiply the health benefits. Too bad you can’t actually afford a gym membership anymore because, oh yeah, you’re still saving for IVF. Hopefully you’ll be able to keep the lights on before it’s all said and done.

12. Share an entire pint of your favorite Ben & Jerry’s in one sitting. Or not. You’re struggling to conceive – no fellow IFer will judge you for eating an entire pint of ice cream by yourself. Even if you upended a jar of Nutella over it. But I’m really trying to replace my desire and knee-jerk reaction of reaching for junk food when I’m depressed with the healthier alternative of fruit. Mmmm, fruit. Or make your own healthy frozen yogurt!

13. Build a future. Yeah…that’s what we’re trying to do. That’s what we thought we were doing. Apparently it’s been backordered – I’m expecting an email any day now telling me that my bio baby is back in stock.

14. Disappoint your husband. Trust me, you won’t have to try, it’ll just happen. And then have make-up sex. Yeah, I think we’ve got that covered – in spades. Not just our husbands, but ourselves, our families etc. But mostly it feels like we continue to disappoint our husbands – who, thankfully, love us just as much as before. 

15. Bake/cook for each other. Things taste way better when they’re made for someone with love. This is very true. My husband isn’t exactly a chef (neither am I, come to think of it – ooops!), but he doesn’t mind helping. And it’s definitely a lot nicer to cook together – a great way to turn a frown (can’t afford to eat out anymore) upside down (look what we made together! team work RAWKS!).

16. Start traditions together. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that no one wants to think of visits to the RE as a “tradition”. Let’s make our tradition something more fun – like watching a funny movie after an unpleasant appointment; taking the dog(s) for a walk after a sob fest; or just hugging each other tightly when it feels like all hope is lost. 

17. Travel within the United States. And when you get lost, make an adventure out of it, knowing you’re safe with your best friend. Make that “travel across the US to several different REs or clinics until you find one that suits your specific needs, budgetary considerations and feels “right” for you.” No need to worry about getting lost – you already feel that way without a baby in your arms. In the meantime, though, I have to agree: there’s almost nothing I can’t endure so long as my husband is there to wrap his strong arms around me and let me wail and sob until I’m all out of tears.

18. Have a sleepover with him every night. If either of you can actually sleep without sleep aids at this point.

19. Go out together, have fun, come home together, and have more fun. Let’s make that “go out together when you don’t have an appointment”. Remember to laugh and smile at the little things – because that’s all you can afford between the chump change and lint left in your wallet.

20. Adopt a pet. When you’re both ready. It’s easier when two people are caring for it. Check. Instead of adopting more pets, don’t feel weird about talking to your pets and treating them like surrogate babies – you know, within reason. Please don’t get a stroller for your wiener dog or an entire closet full of outfits – otherwise I might have to slap you.

21. Start a small business now that you have a confidant, companion, and faithful business partner. You’ve already got at least one Ebay and Etsy store between the two of you and have been putting things on consignment all over town because you’re busy selling off all or most of your worldly possessions for extra income so you can afford IVF. Make your own business cards or flyers from cardboard or paper that comes into your house without additional cost – bonus: original, unique way to “advertise” your fund-raising endeavors. 

22. Start a blog. Together or separately. See? You can do it when you’re married too! Crazy, I know. Or, rather, start a crowd-funding site. The time for being shy, sheepish or embarrassed has come – and passed. Time to take action. 

23. Befriend other happily married couples. Because the ones you used to be friends with all had babies and then (a) started avoiding you when you told them you’re suffering from bubonic plague SARS mad cow disease infertility; (b) gave you inane advice until you couldn’t stand it anymore and stopped calling; (c) you couldn’t stand being around them anymore because of the very obvious, non-pregnant “elephant” in the room. Instead, consider joining an IF and/or adoption support group in your local area to connect with other couples struggling with infertility. Assuming you don’t live in podunk where those things are, apparently, not-a-happening. 

Reposted from:

http://kbeauregard.com/2013/12/31/my-first-blog-the-result-of-a-close-minded-23-year-old/

What feels down, must feel up again…eventually

It’s no secret that I’ve been feeling down lately – a lot. After several years that have kicked me down so many times that I honestly contemplated just staying down for the count (because, really, who was I kidding? I was TIRED of life kicking the crap out of me), pulling the covers over my head with a resolute “wake me up when I’m too old to care”, it’s almost surprising to me that I still have AHA! moments that seem to promise an alternative.

This morning has been one such eye-opening cascade of events.

As you may have glimpsed from previous posts, my status of social butterfly is no more – and hasn’t been for quite some time. My wings haven’t been clipped so much as they’ve basically been stomped on, torn out and turned into dust (translation: the social butterfly has become social hermit. The fact that I recently Googled “social hermit” and, when coming across a site called “hermit crab patch” actually thought it may be a cutesy name for an IF community dealing with social isolation should tell you just how far gone I am with this issue.)

Leaving the house – something that should be of no consequence and that I used to give little to no thought – has become a necessity that I dread and basically avoid as much as I can. It’s become an undertaking against which I actually have to steel myself – that’s how much I don’t want to do it. Sad, I know. But, on days where I absolutely can’t avoid doing so – like today – I try to get it over with as quickly as humanly possible to avoid interactions with others, in the desperate attempt to reduce to near impossibility any heart-wrenchingly painful incidents involving pregnant women and/or cute babies. I think I may have developed a full-on phobia.

It doesn’t help that I’ve had a non-stop headache for the last 3 days, haven’t been able to sleep properly, that I’m fairly sure I’m in the iron grip of PMS and that – assuming AF makes her unwelcome visit on schedule – I’ll have my monthly reminder of NOT being pregnant yet again, this time on 9/11. At least it’ll be perfectly appropriate for me to bawl on a national day of mourning.

So I guess it shouldn’t have come as too much of a shock when I had barely driven out of my drive-way and hadn’t even made it out of our subdivision when I felt the familiar tears welling up, pooling in my eyes before cascading in big rivulets down my cheeks. And while it’s still so bright outside that I don’t have to make up an excuse for wearing sunglasses, having to constantly wipe my eyes beneath them is kind of a dead give away that something is amiss.

Because I’m safety conscious and I know that operating heavy machinery requires an “all hands on deck” kind of approach – to which all-out bawling is just a little detrimental – I try not to do that in the car. My usual remedy of choice is to (a) crank up the volume on my stereo, and (b) obviously choose something that is unlikely to trigger some existential crisis or nervous breakdown. Normally, this means something like thumping dance music – or, if I’m feeling cantankerous, maybe Nickelback. If I think there’s a good chance for a quick “turn that frown upside down”, I’ll probably go for something quirky and fun like The Ataris, All-American Rejects etc.

This morning? No dice. My car was practically vibrating with techno music – and I was struggling not to sob. It was ridiculous. What was even worse is that our post office – this morning’s first destination – is really, really close to our house. Like less than 10 minutes driving distance. So I started thinking about how I really didn’t want to show up there with super puffy, red eyes that either begged the question of WHY – or made it even worse if someone didn’t ask and my obviously puffy, cry-baby eyes just looked pathetically into the eyes of my post office worker who wouldn’t know what to say. The result: instant mortification and, I guarantee, more crying. The only thing that was even more horrifying was the thought that said postal officer would offer a kind word and actually ask what was wrong or if I was ok – and that this show of kindness would cause me to spontaneously burst into tears in front of a crowd of strangers in line behind me. For someone who doesn’t like to cry in front of other people, this is just about as bad as it gets.

Thankfully, I somehow managed to get a grip by the time I made it to the office. Better yet, I had such a pleasant, light-hearted interaction with the post office clerk that I completely forgot all about pressing the pause button on my impending sob-fest.

Once again, I learned a valuable lesson. I keep looking for the BIG things in my life – a baby, or a miracle of equal import and significance when I should be paying more attention to the little things happening around me all day, every day. I really need to quit whining and feeling sorry for myself. Maybe then I’ll realize not just how good I have it, but finally be able to start taking the necessary steps to get myself out of this mind fog that’s been keeping me down.

And just then, as if on cue, a song played that hit the nail on the head:

“The only thing that matters
is just following your heart
and eventually you’ll finally get it right.”

(excerpted from In This Diary by The Ataris)

And you know what? That’s exactly what I’m going to do.