Listened to "Virginia Woolf" by the Indigo Girls yesterday before our IVF transfer and was amazed, as I am every time, at how this song speaks to me and touches my heart. It's one of those I could listen to all day and not get tired of.
It's long, so I'll condense it a bit.
Lyrics:
some will strut and some will fret
see this an hour on the stage
others will not but they'll sweat
in their hopelessness and their rage
we're all the same the men of anger
and the women of the page
they published your diary
and that's how i got to know you
the key to the room of your own and a mind without end
and here's a young girl
on a kind of a telephone line through time
and the voice at the other end comes like a long lost friend
Chorus:
so i know i'm all right
life will come and life will go
still i feel it's all right
cause i just got a letter to my soul
and when my whole life is on the tip of my tongue
empty pages for the no longer young
the apathy of time laughs in my face
you say "each life has its place"
(another verse here and chorus)
the place where you hold me
dark in a pocket of truth
the moon had swallowed the sun and the light of the earth
and so it was for you
when the river eclipsed your life
and sent your soul like a message in a bottle to me
and it was my rebirth
so we know we're all right
though life will come and life will go
still you'll feel it's all right
someone'll will get a letter to your soul
then you know you're all right
(various beautiful harmonious lines here)
and it's all right...
Friday, September 12, 2008
Please Read My Mind.
So I know I can't speak for everyone. Heck, I know I can't speak for anyone but myself. But I've been thinking for some time now and I wish some people just intuitively knew certain things about my fertility issues and the feelings I have about them.
Things I wish people could read my mind about:
1. I'm fragile. Like, REALLLLLY fragile. Two bummed adoptions and a failed IVF cycle in the space of a year make for a lot of really screwed up thought patterns about myself, my circumstances, and God. Please don't take it personally if I'm a little needy right now.
2. I seem cynical because I'm trying to protect myself. Please don't think I don't want to be pregnant because I seem to have little to no hope. I want to be pregnant more than anything right now, but it physically hurts to go through this process, and I am SO AFRAID of feeling like I've failed yet again.
3. I need to feel cared about for attributes other than my uterus' function, or lack thereof. Please continue to tell me about your day, your little annoyances, your excitements, and your own problems as though I'm not going through this. I need a sense of normalcy.
4. It's not your fault when I cry. You didn't "make" me cry. These are difficult issues for me and talking about them can be an emotional experience. My tears are a way of letting out some of that pressure. They start and stop randomly on their own (see the blog post on my most hated side effect of SSRIs), and sometimes something that didn't bring a quiver to my voice yesterday will today. It's okay.
5. I don't blame you for getting/being pregnant. *laugh* This one always gets me. If you get pregnant and are excited about it, why wouldn't you shout it to the world? I want to hear all the morning sickness stories and the first kick stories and the excitement and all the "new baby" stuff. Life is a miracle and as long as you want the baby, I couldn't be happier for you.
6. Please don't talk about how easy it is for you to get pregnant. I know this is easy to bring up with talking about #5, but in my warped mind it's a separate issue entirely and it rubs salt into the wound. Comments like "we just look at each other and I'm pregnant" or "we want to have a baby in about a year so I'll get pregnant in the next couple of months" cut deeply. I know that they shouldn't. But they do.
7. DO NOT TELL ME WE'LL BE LIKE JON AND KATE PLUS EIGHT. Seriously. I know you're trying to be funny, but it's not funny to me. It's incredibly irritating. It's only because I know you don't mean to irritate me that I don't tell you to shut. the. f*ck. up.
8. Ask me questions when you have them. Sure, some are uncomfortable. And sure, sometimes I may get a bit emotional. But the fact that you care enough to ask means a lot to me. I promise, if I get to a point where I don't want to talk, I'll tell you straight out (nicely, of course).
9. You don't have to say anything consoling. I mean, a well-placed "I'm here for you if you need to talk" always helps. But don't feel you have to tell me how sorry you are. You didn't do anything wrong. :) And please don't try to give me a pep talk with "have some faith" or "it only takes one" or "God works in mysterious ways." I know you say it because you don't know what to say. But it's really rather insensitive.
10. Help me be busy. No, don't feel you have to go out of your way to entertain me. But heck, if you want company to go grocery shopping, give me a call. Getting out of myself is incredibly helpful right now and doing things to help other people helps me feel like I do have SOME purpose to my life that I can fulfill. If I'm too tired or too depressed, I'll let you know. But most of the time, I'll be grateful for the company and fun.
Things I wish people could read my mind about:
1. I'm fragile. Like, REALLLLLY fragile. Two bummed adoptions and a failed IVF cycle in the space of a year make for a lot of really screwed up thought patterns about myself, my circumstances, and God. Please don't take it personally if I'm a little needy right now.
2. I seem cynical because I'm trying to protect myself. Please don't think I don't want to be pregnant because I seem to have little to no hope. I want to be pregnant more than anything right now, but it physically hurts to go through this process, and I am SO AFRAID of feeling like I've failed yet again.
3. I need to feel cared about for attributes other than my uterus' function, or lack thereof. Please continue to tell me about your day, your little annoyances, your excitements, and your own problems as though I'm not going through this. I need a sense of normalcy.
4. It's not your fault when I cry. You didn't "make" me cry. These are difficult issues for me and talking about them can be an emotional experience. My tears are a way of letting out some of that pressure. They start and stop randomly on their own (see the blog post on my most hated side effect of SSRIs), and sometimes something that didn't bring a quiver to my voice yesterday will today. It's okay.
5. I don't blame you for getting/being pregnant. *laugh* This one always gets me. If you get pregnant and are excited about it, why wouldn't you shout it to the world? I want to hear all the morning sickness stories and the first kick stories and the excitement and all the "new baby" stuff. Life is a miracle and as long as you want the baby, I couldn't be happier for you.
6. Please don't talk about how easy it is for you to get pregnant. I know this is easy to bring up with talking about #5, but in my warped mind it's a separate issue entirely and it rubs salt into the wound. Comments like "we just look at each other and I'm pregnant" or "we want to have a baby in about a year so I'll get pregnant in the next couple of months" cut deeply. I know that they shouldn't. But they do.
7. DO NOT TELL ME WE'LL BE LIKE JON AND KATE PLUS EIGHT. Seriously. I know you're trying to be funny, but it's not funny to me. It's incredibly irritating. It's only because I know you don't mean to irritate me that I don't tell you to shut. the. f*ck. up.
8. Ask me questions when you have them. Sure, some are uncomfortable. And sure, sometimes I may get a bit emotional. But the fact that you care enough to ask means a lot to me. I promise, if I get to a point where I don't want to talk, I'll tell you straight out (nicely, of course).
9. You don't have to say anything consoling. I mean, a well-placed "I'm here for you if you need to talk" always helps. But don't feel you have to tell me how sorry you are. You didn't do anything wrong. :) And please don't try to give me a pep talk with "have some faith" or "it only takes one" or "God works in mysterious ways." I know you say it because you don't know what to say. But it's really rather insensitive.
10. Help me be busy. No, don't feel you have to go out of your way to entertain me. But heck, if you want company to go grocery shopping, give me a call. Getting out of myself is incredibly helpful right now and doing things to help other people helps me feel like I do have SOME purpose to my life that I can fulfill. If I'm too tired or too depressed, I'll let you know. But most of the time, I'll be grateful for the company and fun.
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