I am what I am. Not what you think I am.

This is not one of many many many posts that I have in my head hoping for time to actually write. Though it is connected to some of the ugliness that has seeped into my life in the last few years and one part of the "spring cleaning" I just never got around to writing about.

So here we go. I know, thankfully from the intranets I know, that being infertile is hard. Hard on yourself (in every way) hard on your relationship, hard on EVERY relationship in your life, whether spouse, friend or family. When we first started down this road I had never felt so alone. It was a dark hole filled with pain and bitterness and no light at the end of any tunnel. I had just connected with a bunch of women all using acupuncture to boost fertility when R reconnected with old friends that had already been on the IF ride for a bit and were close to being on the "other side" Those two things were my first glimmer that I could get through this. That lead to amazing doctors and then to a support site for women going through ART treatments and finally to the land of Blogstonia. Between my pinnies, the posts on the ART site, and Blongstonia, I suddenly did not feel alone anymore. Here were women that felt justlikeme. Happy for every "Hey guess what? WE'RE PREGNANT!" happening around me, but also deeply saddened by the month after month after month of negatives in my own life. Here were women that had the right amount of smarts and snark. They made me feel like I wasn't moments away from being committed to a mental hospital...that everything I was feeling was, normal.

This is when it occurred to me that I needed to do whatever I needed to do to protect ME. It was extremely hard for me to do. And not everyone understood. But for once I held strong and R and I pulled back a bit from every part of life. We needed to refocus everything and aim for one goal. I took a full time job after years of freelancing so work could take a back seat to TTC. This need of protection was only magnified when we had to say goodbye to Tess and Oliver. The need to protect ourselves turned almost primal. I suddenly did not care if anyone understood, though I desperately hoped that when we pulled through the darkness there would still be people there.

And you know what? People were still there. Lots. We have amazing friends. Our families are incredible. Even work colleagues have gone above and beyond. When I think of the love and kindness that R and I have felt and experienced in the last 3 years it brings tears to my eyes and makes my heart swell.

But.

Not every relationship made it through. And this is where the intranets helped me and made me realize yet again I'm not the only one. I have read countless posts and talked to many women that have walked away from friends, relationships, even family members because it was what they had to do for themselves. You can only take so much, especially when you are raw and vulnerable and broken. The friends that seem to kick you instead of lift you up? They need to go. Don't get me wrong. I'm not an angel here. I know I was not the easiest person to be around. That I had been trying to hide my sadness for years longer than even I realized finally got the best of me from time to time. Not everything I meant to say came out in the right way. I take partial credit for why this friendship went through a spell. I also take credit in the trying to reach out, sit down, talk and make it better. After Tess and Oliver died, well, I just kind of thought that moment was fucking obvious. But no matter what I did or said, it just never got better. Actually it only seemed to get worse. And it felt like I was the only one making an effort...meanwhile being judged for every misstep, past, present and future. I had a list rattled off to me of how I had failed to be a good friend/decent human in the previous six years. How offense was taken when I declined a last minute dinner invitation because I had to "wash my dogs" ??? I could type for days on this last sit down conversation. But I will not.

Honestly, after Davis was born I hoped that tensions would ease. But sadly they did not. So this past March, I, WE, made the decision to be done with it. Walk away and let it go.

Hard to do when you've grown up together.
Harder to do in a small circle of friends.
Hardest to do when you live down the hall from one another.

But the Universe works in not-so-mysterious ways and keeps our paths from crossing much less than you could ever imagine. Doesn't mean that it doesn't suck when they do, but it's getting easier.

Wait. Hold on. This post actually started off in a way to document an event that happened in the hallway tonight. I want to forever remember how stupid and silly all of this truly is and the level to which it has sunk.

But now I'm tired. Davis was in the ER last night until after midnight. She's sick and was having trouble breathing. My love was flat out with a bad back and could not go with us to the hospital. Not sure who last night was harder on, Me, Davis or R. Thankfully Davis is ok. Chest x-ray was clear, breathing treatment worked and other than having a Daddy still in bed, and an exhausted Mommy, today she was in fairly good spirits. And one of those friends that has been there always? Well, he was there again last night. Yup. Right by our sides.

Writing all of this puts perspective on what happened in the hallway tonight.
On the list of things that truly matter in our lives...it's not even on it.

So call us curmudgeons if you like.
That is perfectly fine with me.