Keeping Time

When we were kids we kept time on based on our school schedule. Time was more about months than actual hours, September was the beginning of school, full of promise and excitement (if you were a nerd like me), December was Christmas break, March was spring break, then June brought that blessed three month respite from the classroom. You graduate from high school and go on to college and things are similar, but there is more of an emphasis on the breaks between quarters or semesters. You finish school and start working, time becomes attached to your 8-5 M-F week. There are no more big breaks, no more study weeks before finals, no more attending classes in barely passable lounge wear. Then you start to try to conceive and time changes. It is marked by specific days, created by scientists and doctors, who have not one bit of empathy or concern for you and your eggs.

So here were are. I'm 35 years old. No baby. 20 people I personally know have given birth in the last year or will give it next year. I remain the ONLY childless woman in a 1,500 mile radius.

Here is how I now keep time:

Day 1-miserable day when my period starts
Day 5- start taking Clomid
Day 10,11 or 12- follicle scan to see which of my ovaries will drop an egg. If it's the right, we don't try since it's blocked after the ectopic during our first, and only, pregnancy.
Day 13, 14- positive OPK test
Day 15,16- IUI
Day 27-spotting if I'll start my period
Day 29-full on period if we're not pregnant

Today is day 29. Yep, my period came, as usual. Have you ever thought you have cried all the tears your body could possibly make? It's amazing how tears are never ending.

My husband finally agreed that we won't spend time with family this year during Christmas. Thanksgiving was miserable enough. We are sick of everyone else's babies. Even those we love, we're just tired of them. This is such a painful, demeaning and cruel process, and the holiday is stressful enough, we just need to hide away. Months ago I tried to talk him into traveling somewhere for the holiday because I knew we wouldn't be pregnant. Being pregnant is the only thing that would make the holiday bearable, so obviously, we wouldn't be allowed that. But he hates to fly and refused. At least if we had planned a fabulous vacation no one would ask why we aren't hanging out with our exhausting and unsympathetic families.

Even better is that if, if, we do another fucking IUI this month, it will likely fall on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. I always get a positive OPK test on Friday or Saturday which means the IUI is the following day. Who doesn't want to spend their Christmas full of false hope at the stupid hospital, knees up while a nurse inserts a plastic tube carrying the precious and amazing sperm from your spouse? Happy fucking Christmas everybody.

This has officially been one of the worst years of our lives. I joked months ago that if we actually made it through this very painful year, we should have a party themed "We Survived The Shitstorm that was 2011." Then we realized that our guest list would consist of new parents and family. Everyone would have to leave by 7pm to put their babies to bed. Fuck me.

Today I lamented that there is no here I can call and say "let's meet for a drink." No girlfriend I can rely on to meet me at a fancy new bar or a crappy dive bar and just relax and talk some shit.

My mom told me her thirties were her best years. Great. If this decade is any marker for the rest of my life, I am seriously screwed.