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Big Picture Land

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For someone with the name “Sunny”, I have been a bit glum lately. I took some time off blogging this weekend to try and sort out my feelings and chillax a bit on the whole infertility mess.

IF is one of those strange, strange diseases where each day is an exercise in minutia: body temps, fluids, ovulation symptoms…they’re all monitored every day meticulously, whether I want to or not. My brain simply cannot shut off the “not knowing” part of this business. When, if ever, will I ovulate again? Will I ever have a child? Are my eggs ok? I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but being anovulatory for so long has done a number on me, folks. A big fucking number.  Every once in a while (aka–my last blog entry), I end up in Big Picture Land–the Land where I suddenly realize that I have spent the last seven months with my finger up my cooch fishing around for my cervix, and I have moved barely a step closer to my end goal.   When entering Big Picture Land, it’s as if all of those long days leading up to Big Picture Land never existed. I see calendar pages all fast forward before my eyes, and suddenly, there I am in the bathroom with my finger up my vagina, and no pregnancy to show for it.

I know it will get better when I get on fertility meds. It has to. At this point, I don’t care what the side effects are from Clomid or other drugs: I just want to feel….something.

I know there are so many women reading this blog who have been through more harrowing experiences than I have on their own personal journey. Me bitching about not ovulating for 7 months is nothing compared to what others have gone through in their own entry into Big Picture Land. It’s hard to stop myself from comparing my infertility battle scars with others’ scars. We’re all different. We’re all looking for that take-home baby pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. How we get there will never heal our wounds completely.

The truth is, we are all fighters in our own Lands…

Wherever you may be in your journey, whatever Land you’re in…I salute every single last woman who has her own IF battle scars to show.

A tidbit about me:

My name isn’t really Sunny (surprise!). I named myself Sunny on the blog because it is my grandmother’s name, and whenever I think of my grandmother, I think of a strong, vibrant woman who is full of life, warmth, compassion, and who is also not one to let life fuck with her, or bring her down. She has been my rock in my life. My mother is not a very physically affectionate person, but Sunny always gathers me up in a hug, holds me close and gives me tons of kisses all over my face. I cannot imagine life without Sunny in my world…

When I get down, I think about her and it picks me up a bit inside. She is in her late 70s now, and there is nothing more I would love than to see her holding her great grandchild in her arms. In my Big Picture Land, I’m hoping there’s a road somewhere that leads to that day.