Dedicated to the men and women who risk their lives every day protecting the Countries they serve.
For those of you not in the U.S., our Memorial Day weekend is a time to commemorate all of the men and women of the armed forces who have lost their lives serving our Country.
Then there’s the “other” Memorial Day weekend. While thousands gather at ceremonies to honor those courageous men and women, thousands of others gather around beaches, barbecue grills and shopping malls to honor their ability to sit in traffic for five hours to get to a beach forty-five minutes a way, to drink their weight in beer- a feat which is then celebrated by shooting off fireworks or a body part, to eat twice their weight in potato salad, and to trample other bargain-hunters at the mall in hopes of scoring a “buy one, get one free” bra.
I thought it would be nice to bid a fond farewell to Halloween 2016 with a few Infertility Horror Stories… spooky, spooky, stories. (Not real infertility horror stories… I mean, come on. Who needs more of those? And it’s a humor blog for crying out loud.)
My biggest Halloween scare this year was at Walmart. I was in there on Halloween, trying to get to the Halloween candy and had to maneuver around an employee and his crotch that were up on a ladder putting up posters with elves and candy canes.
So now, assuming you can get that image out of your head… Everyone gather in a circle, turn off the lights, get those smoke machines going, and those flashlights under your chins…(Flashlights, not buttercups…nobody cares who likes butter right now.) …And let the infertility horror stories begin.
Read on… if you daaaaare. Continue reading
Whoever came up with the idea of building houses in North Carolina that run solely on electrical power must have been out of their minds…. So there I am in the wake of Hurricane Matthew, sitting in my dark bedroom for the second day, staring at my TV, not watching my football game that, according to my blank clock on the cable box, had started without me, waiting for a team of strangers lurking somewhere out there in the night to flip a switch, duck tape a wire hanger to a post or super glue something so I could get on with my life.
What if what they’re doing doesn’t work and they have to start all over again? What if the person working on my case, isn’t the right one for my situation and doesn’t know what they’re doing? What if what they think is the problem turns out not to be the problem at all? What if this goes on for a really long time? What if everyone else around me has their situation resolved and I’m the only one left? Am I supposed to go on with my life as usual as though everything was normal? How can I still go to work, get along with my husband, deal with my friends, deal with my family (who are a trying group to begin with), have fun, laugh like nothing’s wrong… when I’m so emotionally and physically tired and it feels like my whole life is turned upside down?
Wait. Waaaaait a minute. This feels eerily familiar.
Didn’t I feel just like this while I was going through infertility? It was the Hurricane of ’05. Hurricane IVF. I remember it well. Continue reading
Nowadays, there isn’t much Infertility Reality TV in my life. What I mean is: My reality TV time is usually taken up by Project Runway, Top Chef and other shows that invite me in to marvel at extremely talented people being successful at things that I can’t do at all and have no desire to be better at. But in years past, before I traded my angst-filled, conflict-driven evening of entertainment for kinder, gentler pre-bedtime fare, I used to tune in to watch the Real Housewives of wherever.
The Infertility Ditch. I’ve been in it many times. In fact, for a while, I spent so much time down there, I furnished it. Some people have a beach house. I had my infertility ditch. At some point between the diagnosis of infertility and the final resolution, we all drive ourselves into the infertility ditch. Some of us back out of it faster than others. Some of us drive ourselves in and out of it, in and out of it, in and out of it, over and over again the whole time.
The Infertility Takeover. From even before that very first doctor’s appointment, infertility takes over. The emotional strain of trying to get pregnant. The financial strain. The not-knowing. The tests. The appointments. Rearranging your life to accommodate it all. The questions from everybody. Infertility has invaded your total mind, body, soul, and daily life and thrown you the hell out of there. It’s a total Infertility Takeover. You can’t think of anything else. There is nothing else.
For my kids’ school, I need a teacher scorecard. It’s not to score the teachers. It’s to keep track of them. Every year, a week before school starts, we used to get a phone call from each of my kids’ teachers introducing themselves. No more. Now we just head over four days before the first day of school and look for “the list”. Or in our case, having three kids in one school… one grade in fact… : “The lists”. Which kid has which friends in their class? Which kid has which enemies in their class? And most important: Which kid has which teacher… and for how long? Hence the need for the teacher scorecard.
Let me say that I think all of my kids have had very good teachers so far (with the exception of one who was a newbie and in over her head.) But something’s just not right about this school. It’s their last year there so we’ll ride it out… I guess… Is it just me? You be the judge. Continue reading
Every time you read statistics on teens getting pregnant, don’t you just want to hurt somebody? The latest data I’ve seen, from 2014, shows that while teens are getting pregnant at an all-time low rate in the U.S., there were still 249,078 babies born to females between 15 and 19 that year. (The “19” makes me a lot less queasy than the “15”.) I think this is why the likes of us have trouble getting pregnant. We know too damn much. We have to think more like a schmucky teenager. You know, think back. Remember when you knew nothing but thought you knew everything?
Let’s see if we can key in on how all those teens are getting pregnant. There must be something they’re all doing right. Here are some tips I’ve come up with from what I’ve observed from teens:
Call me selfish, but school to me is all about the field trips. More precisely: It’s all about me going on field trips.
I tell people I go on my kids’ field trips, because my mother never did and I want my kids to be able to remember those experiences. That’s only a half-truth. Yes, my mother rarely went on field trips and I wish she’d gone on more. But the whole truth is that when my kids come home with a flyer about one, I wave it in the air and say: “Oh boy oh boy a field trip!” every single time. The other truth is: My kids would rather I not go. In fact, my daughter’s exact words before the last one were: “Do you have to come to every single one?”
Ah, Back-to-School shoe shopping time. The annual ritual of my children choosing footwear for me to trip over in the living room for the next six months.
It’s only the best for the Foxes. Payless– Where this time of year the aisles look like, well, like somebody blew up a Payless. Do they have any employees but that one cashier? It’s the cafeteria of shoe stores. You serve yourself then go over to the counter to pay. (Once on the way into the store, I held the door for a lady on the sidewalk. She said: “Thanks but I’m not waiting to go in. I’m in line to pay.”)
As you might know I have three children… Triplets in fact. So you would think out of the three, in every situation, even when we go back-to-school shoe shopping, at least one would be normal. And one is. Continue reading