Thanksgiving

Oy.  My Thanksgiving.

Right off the bat it was bad.  I showed up, and within five minutes found myself in conversation with my dad's girlfriend.  That's neeeeeever a good idea.  But it was especially not a great idea this particular day because the previous day my dad and I went on a walk and I finally told him about my PCOS and my struggle.  He responded very appropriately with lots of compassion and no advice, and then he asked if he was allowed to share this with his girlfriend.  And I said yes.  LIKE A FOOL.

This is how the conversation went.  The things in quotes are things that were actually said.  The things in parenthesis are things I thought in my brain parts while smiling innocently.

"SecondVoice!  Hi!  Hey, I wanted to talk to you.  Your dad told me about your.... you know, the thing."

"Oh.  Ok."  (Yeah, it has a name.  Don't be weird.)

"I just wanted to tell you not to worry.  You're still so young.  So you'll definitely get pregnant eventually."

"Yeah... it's just that I have a medical condition..."  (Also, did you think that maybe I didn't know that I was young?  That you would tell me and I would be like, "ARE YOU SERIOUS!?  WELL, THANK GOODNESS; I'LL JUST RELAX!")

"Oh, no, I know.  But I know a lot of people who had trouble trying and they eventually got pregnant.  So."

"Uh...huh..." (That has literally no effect on my own chances of achieving pregnancy.  Like, none at all.)

"Yeah, so you shouldn't be taking medication.  Don't do that."

"...yeah.  I just don't want to regret not doing everything I could when I had the best chances."  (NOT THAT IT IS ANY OF YOUR BUSINESS.  AT ALL.)

"But while you're in school, though?"

"...Yyyyyup."  (This may surprise you, but we were actually already aware of the fact that I am still in school when we made the decision, and we made it anyway.  So obviously reminding me that I'm in school is not going to make me toss out my last dose of Clomid and stay away from sex.  You are not telling me ANYTHING new.)

"Ok, but think about this.  If Brother and CSIL... if they, you know... if something happens.  You would get the twins, right?"

"Um... I don't know.  That's their decision."  (WHAT!?  What are you saying!?  What is happening!?  Are you telling me not to worry about kids because my sibling and his wife might just DIE and then I would get free kids, anyway?  REALLY?  IS THIS REALLY WHAT YOU ARE SAYING TO ME!?)

"Yeah, so don't worry.  You always have that."

(THAT REALLY IS WHAT SHE IS SAYING TO ME.  I CANNOT.)  "I have to go to the bathroom."

I left and immediately texted KC the entire conversation while trying to lock in a calm expression so that I would neither laugh nor cry in her face when next I saw her.  Several minutes later, as in definitely way longer than anyone should ever be in the bathroom, I re-emerged and tried to integrate myself into a new conversation.

But I still was not safe!  She literally chased me down!  And when I tried to pretend I didn't realize she was talking to me, she snapped her fingers in my face to get my attention.

"One more thing, I just remembered the Chinese medicine cure.  You just need to not drink cold liquids and eat more ginger."

My calm face did not work.  I literally did laugh in her face.  Just right in her face.  Hysterical, incredulous laughter.

I was holding a cold drink when she told me this!  And she eyed it, like she expected me to just fling it away immediately.

Fortunately, the family's attention was at that point called to something else.  Unfortunately, the something else was a baby announcement.  CSIL and Brother are having twins!  Surprise!  Everyone was very excited.  Lots of oohing and aahing.

And then we got dinner, and I tried very hard to end up in a group of people that would not discuss babies.  Men on all sides.  So dinner was fine.  I was mostly silent.

But after dinner the women pounced on me.  And they wanted to talk about babies.  Babies babies babies babies babies.  My smile got reeeeally strained.

One such conversation was particularly hard.  CSIL was just going on and on about how proud Brother was and how excited he was to be a father and how cool it was that she could give that to him.  She talked about keeping track of the size of the babies, how one week they were the size of a poppy seed and the next they were the size of a sesame seed and right now they're the size of grapes.  I kept track of that, too, when I thought I was pregnant.  I got the diagnosis around sesame seed.

It was just painful.  Painful to hear how happy she was and how easy it was and all the things they get to plan and do now.  I felt horribly insufficient and sad, and the more she talked the quieter and smaller I got.

Then Grandmother turned to me and asked how my life was.  And I told her about law school and working at the church and stuff... but I almost started crying as I was talking, because I didn't care about anything I was saying.  Law school's fine.  Church is fine.  I'm broken inside.  At one point, I literally couldn't think of anything else to say and I was starting to tear up and I thought, "This is it.  My blog prediction is going to come true.  I really am going to start crying out of the blue in front of everyone."

But then CSIL chimed in and said she was feeling exhausted and might head home because growing two humans is tough work and I immediately offered to drive her.  She said goodbye to everyone and I told people that I would come back.

But I did not.  I did not go back.  Instead I cried on CSIL's couch and we talked about life and then we watched a movie.

I've never in my life left Thanksgiving so early.  I'm usually one of the last ones to leave.  But I just couldn't stay.  Not one second longer.  All I could do was think about what a marker holidays are.  If by Thanksgiving next year I have a baby, then I will look back on this year and wish that I could have told me that it would be OK.  But if another year goes by and I am still trying by the time this holiday rolls around again, it's going to be so freaking hard.  Because the twins will be there.  And I will remember this year and realize that it's been hundreds of days since then and nothing has worked and I will want to be alone and cry all day.  And at this point in time I don't know which of the two outcomes it will be.

Holidays are just... hard.

Drag it out, will you?

The last couple of days have been really frustrating.  I know I said I got AF two days ago, but what I really got two days ago was gross-o brown gunky stuff that led me to believe that my period was coming imminently because sometimes I get that before my actual period starts.  As in, like, an hour before.  But then I got it for like a day and a half before it just stopped completely, which has never happened.  So I was like "Whaaaat is going on?"  I even tested again (negative, because obviously).  And then I asked Dr. Angry Eyebrows, who was just as unhelpful as ever.  And then I screamed at the skies, "WHY CAN'T MY BODY BE NORMAL!?"

Well today my body said, "YOU WANT A PERIOD!?  FINE.  HERE.  BLOOD FOR DAYS AND CRAMPS SO BAD YOU WILL FEEL LIKE YOU ARE DYING."  Freaking ow, body.  Why are you doing this?  I have an oral argument today!  You can't ever just give me the blood without the pain?  It always has to come with a giant "screw you; I want you to feel how not pregnant you are"?  Uuuugggghhhhh, I hate you so much.

The good news is now that actual AF took her sweet freaking time showing up after her gross and unwelcome entourage, I will be taking my last day of Clomid on freaking Thanksgiving.  Hooraaay!  I'll be sneaking pills in the bathroom like a REAL druggie!  Who here would like to take bets that Crying Clomid causes me to have a meltdown right in the middle of the holiday?  I can see it now.  Someone will ask me to pass the gravy and I will just start sobbing.  And it will be hilarious.  Because, you guys, my family is SUPER NICE.  We've got our problems and whatever, but they are all hidden and unnoticeable.  Like my struggle with infertility.  A good chunk of my family probably still doesn't know about it, or if they do it has been discussed in soft whispers with a lot of compassionate head nodding in the dark of night.  At holidays such things are never discussed.  No one fights.  Everyone is agreeable.  If there is a disagreement at all, it is probably regarding whose pie is better, and both pie-makers will insist that the pie they did not make was far superior than their own.  That's the kind of environment I'm talking about here.  So if in the midst of the smiles and the compliments and the small talk and the copious hugging I start sobbing, one of two things will happen.  Either everyone will be so shocked that they don't know how to cope and will shut down so that the only sound in the room is my wailing, OR every single person in the room and, before long, the adjoining rooms will immediately flock to the trouble and I will be smothered by affection and compassion.  And those closest to the sobbing will give a play-by-play to those on the outskirts so that they do not feel left out.  "Yes, she's still crying.  Apparently there is no baby in her.  Even now.  Oh, when I said the word baby it got much worse.  Now she is sinking to the floor and making squeaking noises.  Do you think she needs water?  Could you get her some?  I'll catch you up on what you miss; don't worry.  Please hurry!  For some reason now she is getting enraged!"

There's just going to be SO MUCH to be thankful for.