Resolve to Know More about Keeping a Sense of Humor with Infertility

Infertility is tough.

Infertility is stressful.

Infertility is an easy journey to “lose yourself” in.

That is why it is so important to me to keep a sense of humor.  Not a sick, twisted sense of humor, but to be able to laugh at jokes that will lighten a mood after a particularly tough day, or to be able to play with your spouse after a tense conversation or situation.

My husband is a VERY laid-back kind of guy.  Our counselor likens men’s emotions/thought processes to a chest of drawers.  While women are capable of having multiple drawers open at a time, men can have one – and only one – drawer open at a time.

The “I’m hungry, what’s to eat?” drawer.  The “I’m tired and want to zone out to the TV” drawer.  The “I wonder how my wife is feeling and how I can make her feel better” drawer.  Ok, maybe there’s not really a drawer for that, but there should be.

Most of us have emotions that run from frigid to you’re-gonna-get-burned-if-you-touch-me gamut.  We can go from a 2 (sad and depressed) to an 8 (laughing and joking) in a matter of seconds.  Well, maybe just me.  But my husband goes from a 4 to a 6 and that’s about the extent of his levels.

He just believes so strongly that everything is going to be okay that things don’t really bother him.  And he’s got the rebound of a rubber band after we have an argument.  Oh, how I wish I were that way!!

sleep like my husband

After my dad met J, I will never forget him telling me “you guys balance each other out so perfectly, it’s like you were made for each other.  He will calm you down, and you may be able to rile him up sometimes.”  Well, dad was right.  He may not get riled up very often, but I know just what buttons to push!  Tee-hee.

We are both stubborn as can be and we’ve had arguments that have left us not speaking for days.

But we’re learning to smile a little more.  We’re learning to laugh a little more.  We’re learning to enjoy our intimacy – beyond the temping and the opk’s and the perfectly timed sex.

We’re in this together.

We may be 1 in 8, but we are ONE.



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Dear [Insert Name Here]

Have you ever been expecting visitors and then been disappointed when they actually show up?

For 24 months now, I’ve had a visitor.  Usually, this visitor is ANNOYINGLY punctual.  There were a couple months the visitor was early and a couple when the visitor was late.  The early months, I hate.  The late months, I REALLY hate.  But the one thing I have learned to count on being COMPLETELY consistent is the disappointment that usually tags along with the cramps and backaches.

Even when I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that this visitor will decidedly be showing up – bags packed and ready to deliver insomnia, bad attitude and many other pleasantries – I am still somewhat surprised at how disappointed I am at her appearance.  I wish that once a month women could just get a pleasant note in the mail:

Dear [insert name here],

I’m sorry to inform you, but you are not pregnant this month.

Sorry for any inconvenience this may cause.  In order to alleviate some of the stress of this time, please feel free to be a grumpy as necessary, cry uncontrollably at television commercials  (or radio ads or a silly comment made by a co-worker), eat all the chocolate you please and drink as much wine as you wish.

Remind any insensitive folks, that jokes at this time are greatly unwelcomed and unappreciated. If there are those that have any issues with the aforementioned provisos, please advise them – in whatever verbiage you so desire – to take a flying leap.


Your Uterus

**sigh** In a perfect world.

period 2