Didn’t make it to yoga yesterday morning but Juno had the touch of the squitters so I elected to stay home and keep an eye on her. She’s fine, hubby likes to give her things like buffalo bones and they don’t always agree with her. Miss Juno has a delicate tummy, you see, and she’s been throwing up lately. Nothing serious, just bile, but it seems to be related to whatever she gets her little mouth on – like eating the cover off a tennis ball, duck poo, said buffalo bones and Terra bones (which never bothered her before, and they’re supposed to be organic treats for dogs but whatever).
So Miss Pessimistic Paranoid (that’s me on the subject of getting a baby) was having a teary fit on her occasional days of work. I’ve already figured out an exit strategy to avoid telling people the unfortunate news. I’m going to Bali – Ubud to be specific and I’m going to stay at the Tegal Sari. It’s a local accommodation situated next door to rice paddies, not one worthy of terrorists blowing up. I’ll be staying for 5 weeks I think – with massages every other day. The local women will tut tut my sad, childless state and tell me to eat some strange herb. I’ll do a colonic cleansing – which I swore I’d never do in this lifetime – and go on a master cleanse (another thing I swore I’d never do). For that, I’ll just have to drink the local water, that should do the trick. I will lose 15 pounds instantly. I’ll call on every healer on the island to work their juju on me. Then I will eat everything that isn’t nailed down. Should I take a lover? That could be dicey since I’m married, but hubby will be sad and stoned most likely, so perhaps he won’t mind. Then I’ll come home, write a book, and go on Oprah and be famous for 15 minutes. The end. Please note I have no intention of getting a fertility clinic somewhere to knock me up at the age of 60.
Miss Full of Faith and Optimism also has a plan. She is much stronger and won’t give in to stinkin’ thinkin’. She’ll keep busy, keep away from horror stories on the net and take care of her health so that she can pick up her kid and not throw her back out. She’ll work hard, make money and read bedtime stories with dramatic flair. She’ll hang out with her friend at the local Starbucks with gigantic strollers blocking the path and bitch about being tired and finding the right nanny/au pair so we can get our pedicures done in peace. We’ll pretend they’ll grow up together, fall in love and make mocha babies. Oh, yes, I’m sure my friends’ baby is a girl, she hasn’t mentioned anything yet but I bet ya they know the sex and aren’t saying anything to me cause it’s a girl.
I need to flesh out more details on the good news dream. This is my one big regret: this is not who I was 5 years ago. The uber positive, good things happen to good people woman. Buddhism teaches that no one can avoid problems, not even saints or sages; that I shouldn’t abandon faith just because it seems the gods have forsaken me. This matter of infertility and childlessness has been my companion for so long, that’s it’s difficult for me to perceive a life without either of these things being my focus. Even if I don’t talk about it much, even if I don’t feel sad about it, it’s like this background noise that I can never quite tune out.
I also want to say thank you for all your support now and in the future. Cause I’m going to need it folks. And now for something that just makes me smile.