That's a new one on me

Here's one that I've never actually faced before in terms of seeing pictures that people post on Facebook: the new dad cutting the cord.  I've seen ultrasounds galore, and tons of the new mommy holding the baby and somehow looking perfect and gorgeous supposedly right afterwards.  I thought I'd seen just about every new baby pic out there.  Until now. 

I asked Bear whether he had ever done that, and he had not, since his children were both C-sections.  I wonder if he ever will have the chance.

Paint Chips

So, on Friday I got my first period since Bear and I started TTC.  At the time, I blocked it out except for the practicalities of having to deal with it while I was out of town, since I was anxious about several other things.

Tonight, I did get to react, though.  I didn't realize at the time what the impetus was for this, but at one point during a commercial break, Bear put aside his plate and pulled me in to hold me and say that he was sorry too.  It turns out that he noticed a commercial about people looking at paint colors and he was imagining us choosing paint colors for a nursery.  When he said it, I couldn't say the word, nursery, but Bear said that at some point we really will be doing that.  I hope he's right. 

He also said he didn't bring it up earlier because he knew how stressed I had been and wanted to let me push it aside until I was a little less stressed.  How did I end up with such a wonderful man?

Random Metaphors Strike in the Shower

Bear and I are leaving on a road trip today for an event.  Because this event is only every other year, the last time I was there was with my ex.  Notice that I didn’t say I made the trip with my ex.  I thought he was going to be there, but as it turned out, he was going to go on his own and just be there at the end (he had a thing for work that kept him from doing the drive, but just go with me on the metaphor here).  I thought I’d be able to make the trip just fine, but when I was most of the way there, there was an accident and I flipped the car.

I called him from the ambulance to say I was pretty sure I was ok but this had happened, and I texted people, still from the ambulance, to let the people at the event know what had happened and to make sure that someone else picked him up from the airport, since I was supposed to.  When we both made it to the hotel, me with a sprained ankle and glass shards still in my skin (yes, I know I was *incredibly* lucky that that was the worst of it), his reaction was to blame me for causing more stress that he didn’t need.

This time around, Bear and I are starting from a different place, in a lot of ways, but still looking at going past some of the same places.  Physically we are, since we’re leaving from a different state, but the last 4 hours of the drive will be the same.  And emotionally we are, since we’re starting TTC in a different place, as a different couple, but we’re looking at the possibility of driving that infertility road again since my ex and I never did get an answer about who/what the problem was, so for all I know it’s me.

But this time, I know Bear is with me the whole way, even if it takes him outside of his comfort zone.  We’re taking my car, so I’ve spent the past couple of weeks teaching him to drive stick.  And when we do go past that place where I had the accident, HE is going to be the one driving while I try to sleep and not know I’m passing it.  If only I had that same ability with facing infertility, but I know that as we travel that stretch, he will do everything he can to share the burden with me.  Because we face things together.

Words

My boyfriend (who I am hereby naming Bear) saw me logging in tonight and asked me about whether I'm still going to post in Notes.  I told him what I told y'all, about posting there and maybe cross-posting some.  And then I tried to tell him that because of how hard it is for some people to read such posts, maybe I'd post over there about it if I...if we...and I couldn't say it.

I danced around the word.  I said, "if we...you know."  I tried to speak and my voice dropped away.  Bear looked at me and said, "you can't say that word, can you?"  And he was right.  I couldn't.  Even when I tried, I couldn't force the word out.  Because it's just too fraught.

(Something I picked up from a friend of mine is that you don't really have to say anything after the word "fraught," it really can stand on its own.  Because when you use it, you're always referring to something bad.  Something is "fraught with danger" or "fraught with peril."  Something is never "fraught with puppies" or anything else happy.  So now I just use it on its own.  And that word really is fraught for me.)

Anyway, vocab lesson aside, I couldn't say it because I don't believe I'll ever be it.  I expect my body to fail me, to fail us.  And if we can't, it really would be my body failing us.  He has kids and had them without any problem, it wouldn't be his body.  It would be me being a failure, failing to so what a woman should be able to and failing to give us what we both want desperately, and we would know it this time.  No question, like there was with my ex when we didn't know who it was since all the testing for both of us was normal.  Me.

Bear really does believe that we can, saying that less probable things have happened, including us being together at all.  He said that that gives him the belief that we will be able to.  But that came about because of choices.  Whether I'll be able to or whether I'll hold us back isn't a choice.  He points out that whether we test, whether we cycle, whether we do treatments is a choice, though.  A real choice, which I didn't have before with my ex when one thing after another kept us from doing an IVF cycle.  And that is true.

But for now, all I can do is lean on his belief.

Who am I? Why am I here?

So, you may ask, why am I here when I already have a perfectly good ALI blog?  Because when I started Notes, my purpose was to break the silence about infertility, and so I purposely shared it with as many people in my real life as I could.  I posted about it on Facebook.  I posted it on Facebook through Networked Blogs.  I talked about it to my friends and family.  Because I didn't want to be part of the problem with the cone of silence surrounding infertility.

But now, things have changed.  Now, I'm almost divorced from my ex-husband (damn waiting for a court date).  Now, I'm dating someone who I've been friends with for nine years.  Now, I'm dating someone whose ex-wife I used to be friends with.  Now, I'm dating someone who WANTS more children than he has and WANTS them with me, even if we need treatments.  Now, I'm looking at becoming a step-parent while most of my friends don't know yet that it's quite that serious.  Now, having my friends seeing my blog limits what I can say.

Because people talk.  They talk to my ex.  They talk to his ex.  So how could I talk about TTC or step-parenting freely?  That's why I'm here.

I'm still going to keep Notes and publish the same kinds of posts I have been, posts about awareness and advocacy.  And if we are able to conceive, I may do posts about pregnancy over there.  Or here.  I dunno.  I haven't thought that far ahead, because even though we just started trying, I'm scarred enough by past experience that even though my IF was unexplained, I feel like it's easier to believe we can't and be surprised if I'm wrong than the opposite.  At least here, I can talk about it.