Not Giving Up?

Considering not giving up because a fertility clinic is literally around the corner is high on the list of stupid shit I have actually considered doing. But I walk the puppy past this place every single day. It is literally the most conveniently located thing in my block. It is closer to me than our regular brunch place. It's closer to me than the coffee guy.

So I looked them up today. Fuck it. Why not? They take my insurance, they are two friends with academic backgrounds and all the lists of all the shit you're supposed to have, and their references in Fertility IQ are totally fine, and they seem to do all the monitoring themselves, and I have money left on the benefit. And it's sexist of me, but one of them is a woman. Which I'd really much prefer.

So.

I have written asking for an appointment in January. Why not?

Even if it doesn't work, it might be nice to have my hand held on the way out. And I could get monitored in my pajamas, and then go back to sleep.

Not going out without a fight, Succotash, you persistent hypothetical person, you. I'm going to go down fucking swinging.

Achievement Unlocked

I have just made it through watching Episode 7 of the Romanoffs, which is the one with the infertile couple that travels to Russia to adopt a baby.

I watched the whole thing, and I didn't cry. Not even during Kathryn Hahn's rant about IVF and how awful it is.

I am feeling proud of myself, and like I might celebrate by ordering in Chinese food.

Small steps. It's not full-bore baby shower attendance, but it's not nothing, either.

I sure wish my friend would just read Judith Butler

Instead of deciding that hating her life as a woman means she must definitely be a trans man instead of just your usual run of the mill woman who hates what she's consigned to and discovers feminism as a result, necessitating her mounting a one-person musical revue which isn't one person at all but includes a pianist and a husband and a son for her to sing about wanting to play on the jungle gym as a kid instead of with Cabbage Patch dolls, culminating in an Act 1 finale in which she performs in a maternity dress with a literal baby doll stuck under her clothes to express her complex feelings about motherhood, causing me to have a fucking emotional breakdown while sitting in the front row and then leave during intermission.

If she'd just read Judith Butler, I could have had a completely different night tonight.

Things that are Much Worse, Objectively Speaking, Than Never Having a Baby

Cancer

Dementia

Becoming paraplegic

My husband dying in a terrible accident

Me dying in a terrible accident

My parents dying in a terrible accident

Climate change

Heroin withdrawal

Sex trafficking

Dying in a plane crash like that sweet boy I went to high school with

Dying of the flu like my friend R did two years ago for no fucking reason

AIDS, even with all the new drugs they have now

Having a fascist government seize your home and belongings and put you in camps

Schizophrenia

Lou Gehrig's disease

Any wasting disease, really

Ebola

Chronic hunger

Being kidnapped and forced to play flute for the Khmer Rouge while the other children around you are executed one by one, and then escaping to the jungle and watching what the monkeys eat in order to learn how to survive

Being hideously disfigured such that you cannot recognize yourself

Having to be on dialysis forever

Having a brain tumor that changes your personality forever

Losing the ability to read or speak

I mean, really, this is a long fucking list when you get right down to it. Maybe I should add to it every day until I realize once again that my life is awesome.