With TTC off my plate, what’s an infertile blogger to blog about?
I know my cervical mucus reports were riveting, so I have a lot to live up to if I decide not to blog about them any further. Truth be told, for the last year or so, almost everything I have done has been with a mind towards fertility. What’s good for a baby, what’s bad, supplements, meds, PCOS research…Strip that all away, and what am I left with? Little ole me. The good, the bad, the ugly.
The woman inside of these fingers typing away isn’t ovulating, but she is still living, breathing, thinking, feeling, eating and shitting (quite well, with no current hemorrhoids, I might add). In all of my attempts to “fix” my body, I kept waking up each day saying, “maybe today is the day…” and being disappointed when it wasn’t the day my ovaries decided they would kick into gear. For almost a full year (and most of my menstruating life, if I’m being honest), I have lived each day as if I would be better “if only” I could be a “normal” woman.
I cannot live my life like this anymore. This much, I know. The rest of it, I’m still a little bit iffy on. Worrying about that which I cannot control has become an identity that I wish to shed, but how?
The “girl with the plan” in me has these archetypes I keep going back to as I refocus my energy on something other than ovulating and bodily functions out of my control:
1. I could turn into one of these tweaked out perky chicks I’ve seen jogging on the side of the road on Sunday at 6AM–the kind of girl that I currently flick my eye crust at while I’m barely awake, driving to get a McMuffin for my hangover. I’d blog about how “pumped” I am on life, have a kick ass body, and eat “clean”.
2. I could turn into one of these yoga types, blissed out on coconut water, and the scent of my own pit sweat. I would include lots of inspirational quotes on my blog about butterflies, destiny, and inner voices.
3. I could get really chummy with my new besties “Jose”, “Jack”, and “Jaager” for a few years, marinate my ovaries in a cesspool of nicotine and Nyquil, and blog about how liberated I am now that kids aren’t tying me down.
The key for me is going to be in realizing that these archetypes are in themselves a way that I try to assert control over my life. By having this one all-encompassing persona I can live up to, it gives me a focus, and also a way to beat myself up when I inevitably fail at becoming the “perfect” runner, yoga, or drunk chick.
I’m a little bit “runner”, a little bit “yoga”, and a little bit “boozy” with a dash of “happy homemaker” , and “sick and twisted” for good measure. I’ll never be all of one or the other.
Perhaps this is a good place to start for now.