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.

Friendsgiving

I got ready for the event like I was getting ready for war.  My make-up was war paint.  My clothes were armor.  I took a lot of deep breaths and stalled strategically until I knew that other people would be there already so that I could blend into a crowd, but not so long that she would notice my absence and wonder.

By the way, to those friends who remembered that yesterday would be hard for me and reached out in the morning to let me know they were thinking about me and lending mental support: thank you so much.  It really helped.  I appreciate you guys more than I can say.

When I got there, there were only about five people, several of whom were friends I hadn't seen in a while.  I immediately got into a conversation with one of them which was lovely except that she had recently had a baby and started telling me how tough they are and how I should wait a very long time before I have one.  I put on a tight smile.

Then another friend who had recently had a baby walked in holding her baby.  So the two of them starting talking about labor and epidurals and I subtly backed away in panic.  Someone opened champagne around that point and I pounced on it.  Comments were made about my eagerness.  I ignored them and downed that golden elixir of relaxation like I was running a marathon and it was life-giving water.  And then I transitioned to a conversation with a single friend that I had just recently gotten to meet up with in England.  Hooray!  England!  What a safe topic!

The food was served and I surrounded myself with people of the male variety, which soon made me sincerely contemplate whether conversations about sports were TRULY better than baby talks.  But it was a good move because it got me invited to play a board game that takes about an hour to explain and several more hours to play.  I eyed the females congregating and giggling around the new baby and accepted immediately, even though I have failed miserably at this game before and had a terrible time (it was the Game of Thrones board game, if you're wondering.  Picture Risk, but in Westeros).

Thankfully, we played for the rest of the event.  I got to focus on deploying armies and bidding for the Iron Throne while catching only snatches of the baby talk around me.  I heard the word uterus several times, though.  Each time, it reaffirmed my excellent decision.

All was well as Brother claimed his seventh castle and won the game.  Husband and I announced that we had to go, since a two hour drive was waiting for us, and we said our goodbyes.  I could taste freedom.

But then, of course, CSIL decided to walk us to the car.

I'm very torn about what followed.  We chatted for a bit and she shared some of her struggles.  One of them was weight gain and she called me a skinny bitch, which made me a lot happier than I ever thought that phrase possibly could.  And it was nice to hear a bit about what she's going through and realize that this isn't all sunshine and roses for her either.

But at the same time, a part of me could only hear her saying, "Ugh, you know what sucks?  Being pregnant.  And you know what double sucks?  Being DOUBLE pregnant.  You have noooo idea."  That part of me wanted to scream or slap her and say, "OBVIOUSLY I WOULD TRADE MY SKINNY BODY AND MY LACK OF NAUSEA AND ALL MY MONEY AND BASICALLY ANYTHING ELSE TO HAVE EVEN HALF OF WHAT YOU HAVE.  STOP COMPLAINING."

But it was ok.  Because then I got to leave.  And leaving brought me such intense relief.  I really like feeling of not dreading anything.  It's a rush like no other.  And now I'm free!  Freeeeeee!

...until freaking Thanksgiving. :/