So my tea party was cancelled as people were dropping like flies due to illness and other reasons so I’m home in full lazy lump mode but I think I am way overdue for my Unsung Lullabies post(s). If I had to rename this book and some of its chapter titles it would be:

• Unsung Lullabies: Sucking Big Sweaty Dirty Monkey Balls
• This Isn’t How It was Supposed to Be: This wasn’t supposed to suck monkey balls.
• Why does it hurt so bad?: Why does it suck Monkey balls?
• If everyone else can do this, why can’t I?: Why do I have to be the one sucking monkey balls?

Well anyway this is Chapter Five, a further examination on how infertility undermines the self-esteem. First we deal with media myths: the belly bump watches, the movie stars who gain 15 pounds during the pregnancy and lose them one week post-partum. As I alluded to in a previous post, I starve for information about the stories behind the million dollar People photo shoot of baby number one. But for every one or two honest protrayals  there are 100 thin preggos and it all hurts like hell.

Then we deal with the delusion we have that ART is the panacea it is. This crap is hard, all consuming, expensive and it doesn’t always work!  When you’re queer and decide to TTC many of us had an image: A kind KD, candles, foreplay, a syringe, maybe music and the dreams of a natural birth 9 months later. Then reality hits: the charting, the OPKs, the ick factor (I mean its semen….ewwwww) and then the line gets moved: first no clomid, then no needles, then no IVF. In this we deal with the money spent and the homophobia we get from the very business that’s supposed to get us pregnants.

Next we have the cultural myths: This is where some lesbians may diverge from the straights. We like all females may have got whatever mandate to have children. But you know I don’t remember the push to have kids from my family. I heard the push to college. Sex and babies were limited to three messages: Love yourself (literally) so you’re not overwhelmed by hormones, use protection and NO WAY are you having a kid before its time. Pro-choice indeed. But I was suckered by one thing: even with my mother and my aunt’s difficulties I really believed that as a latina I was a walking font of fertility. Joke’s on me.

Basically, infertility makes you doubt everything you ever believed about who you are and what you can do as a person. Since we started we have done things or not done things based on “what if I’m pregnant” or “will i have the money for the next treatment?”. I fell like not only have I put my career on hold I must have let it stagnate and go back. My classmates are doing so much more with their careers, more advanced, more money, more known in the field. What do I have? Stayed in one job because I had tons of vacation for maternity leave and took a job I knew I wouldn’t like for its fertility benefits. And here I am unemployed and broke, unknown in my field, looking at the reality that my supervisor is  going to be younger than me and a more recent graduate from social work school.

There are days when all I can do is second guess my life: Is it my weight? Was it the drugs and alcohol? Should I have gone green years ago and lessen my exposure to chemicals? Was it the random encounters with bouncers and persons who would buy me drinks? Aside: Depending on your definition of encounters I can either fit everyone on my fingers and toes or burn a calculator battery.

When I was hit with infertility, I lost the chance to do things differently than my parents. I lost the chance to raise a child on my terms; passing on my values and beliefs and the love I have inside. I dreamed of a child that was beloved; the would learn about diversity and freedom and not have to turn to drugs, alcohol, food or other people to fill the emptiness inside. I dreamt of a child who might be part of a change of view in this world: who would inspire people to respect and accept their moms.

But intead I sit here in pain thinking about how much of a colossal failure I am. The authors state that compartmentalizing the pain of infertility and stop lettting it distort our self image we can then begin the healing process. We have to remember who we are and the good that we have done and we are more than our infertility.

Easier said than done. I’m re-linking to Are We There Yet?