One of the worst side effects of semi-fertility has been the absolute decimation of many relationships that were important to me in my life "before". I also find that this journey has led to the utter destruction of my self-confidence/self-perception, which has rendered me useless when it comes to building new relationships in our new city. I cannot bear for others to know about my failures. I am ashamed of how my body has betrayed me. I am less than: less than a woman, less than a mother, less than a wife, less than myself.
This desire to keep my imperfections hidden certainly did not spring up as a result of my unrequited baby love (I remember not wanting my own dad to attend my Confirmation, back when things like church mattered, because I was afraid he'd show up wasted, or even worse - in the DTs), but at no other time in my life has it infiltrated so deep into my being, and affected so many aspects of my life, as now. As a child, and teenager, and college student, I excelled at school. I defined myself by it. I even had looks to fall back on. Now, I am defined by my semi-fertility. Worse yet, I let it happen.
And so, I am (mostly) alone. I cannot talk to old friends. No one wants to hear about my misery. At best, they just won't get it or give a damn. At worst, they'll actually care, and my sadness will color a moment in their lives. I must admit, I'm also a little angry with some of them. We have been friends for many many years, yet the girls who know our story, and know of our most recent loss, have not called once in the months since the debacle with my tube. It's not really justified, this anger, this hurt, since I am notoriously bad about keeping in touch, and am definitely not allergic to talking on the phone. But still, that twinge is there.
On a lighter note: dogs are silly, and make me laugh (and keep me semi-sane). My big one (a stray, rescued from a flood last spring) has been learning, like a sponge, from the little one, even when the behaviors are not big-dog appropriate. The latest: he stands on the arm of the couch to look out the front window, just like the little dog, even though he's quite tall enough to simply look out the window without standing on anything. I guess he thinks he's little too. This has also manifested itself in a desire to sit in my lap, just like little dog, even though he weighs nearly seventy pounds. Cute at first, but not so much when the phone is ringing and he refuses to get off of me so I can answer it. Ah well, it was most likely telemarketers anyway :)
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