(Sorta) Living My Best Life

You know how sometimes you get these random bursts of happiness and you’re all ‘whoa, I don’t even know who that girl is’? That was me as soon as I got a whiff of summer. I vowed to take my own advice and not let my appointments and ‘could I be pregnant?’-ness get in my way of sunshine and mules: YES I’ll go to the baseball game, and your birthday party, and that dinner you scheduled during the work week! I was feeling good. Not “hey I might finally get pregnant” good, but “fuck this I’m doing it my way” good. Turns out I wasn’t infertile and depressed – I was just cold. So in the spirit of “fuck it!” I made a few life adjustments: Signed another lease for our teeny one bedroom apartment (who needs more space?! NOT ME). Took up weekday drinking again – because I’m reckless and wild and I just don’t believe a spritzer will be the death of my eggs. Ripped the tags off of too-skinny jeans, and bought dresses that will burst before they make room for a bump. There was no more “but I could be pregnant soon”, cause let’s be real…

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It was here, in this good place, that I demanded a vacation. I wanted to gather all my polyps (oh yes, there are more) and pills to enjoy some forced relaxation. We discovered a sliver of paradise in a sea of Zika: the Bahamas have been cleared for months (thanks for the heads up, guys), so I took those Infertile Points and off we went. But wait! As I stuffed my bag full of a month’s worth of underwear and bikinis (what more does a girl need?), I realized: this might actually suck. That’s the beauty of trying to conceive – you’re always being thrown a new batch of shit and ISN’T THAT SO FUN?! Going on vacation during the TWW is great because then you get the opportunity to develop new infertile vacation worries that you never even thought about, like:

Preparing for Take-Off. As if sitting in a hotbox or germs for hours on end isn’t bad enough, you’ll start to question the impact that a tumultuous take-off can have on your possible embryo. I once scoffed at a woman who asked if her bumpy car ride to work would make implantation impossible (oh honey, no), but an aggressive plane landing? Shit, maybe. Read More »