I went last week to get my final Lupron shot. In other words, I am at the beginning of my last thirty days of the medicine. The two months that I have been on the medicine have flown by. Between enduring the craziness of a new school year and all that comes with Fall, I haven't hardly thought about Lupron or babies or my lack thereof. The longer I am on the medicine the more side effects I am experiencing. I have hot flashes everyday now. I am also having some bone pain which is common. I go back November 3rd to speak with Dr. Bell about the next plan of action.
I am so ready for life to slow down a bit in the next couple of weeks. I am excited for the end of volleyball season so that I won't be working so much, and I can enjoy some free time. However, I am a little worried about a slow down. Christmastime the past few years has been the time of year when having a baby really interests me. It's something about a holiday season with a family full of adults that leaves folks asking a lot of questions about coming up with some children to open presents the next year. Certainly it's more fun to watch a kid tear open a package than my thirty year old brother. No offense, Jared.
In the past few months, I have sort of pushed the idea of parenthood out of my mind. I knew that I had three months where getting pregnant was not an option, and instead all I had to was worry with work and graduate classes and other normal stuff. It's been nice. I haven't missed negative pregnancy tests. I haven't missed counting days and trying to interpret the inner-workings of my body. I have just been me without so much guilt about not being able to get pregnant. The break has been appreciated.
So, I'm left with facing the next step, whatever it might be. I realize that in order to have a child I will have to at least try. That magical dream of just turning up pregnant no longer exists anywhere inside of me. I have accepted that this story is going to unfold differently than I originally anticipated. And I've accepted that everything associated with getting pregnant unfolds in thirty day intervals. Slow, lonely, frustrating thirty day intervals.
The volleyball team that I coach played a tournament this weekend at the high school I attended. In the halls of the school are some plaques and trophies that I won years ago. Some of my players were looking at the plaques and called me over to ask me some questions about playing sports. After we were done talking, I stood in that hall looking at those plaques that I won almost a decade ago. I felt a sense of envy thinking back on my seventeen year old self who never wondered what my purpose was. I never questioned if playing sports was what I was meant to do. I could use wins and losses and points scored and newspaper articles as proof that I was doing something worth doing. Being an athlete was always so easy for me. I suddenly really missed having something in my life so inevitable.
I couldn't help but feel a little deflated at the realization of who I am today compared to who I was ten years ago. For whatever reason, I don't get a ton of satisfaction out of being a teacher and coach. I don't feel immense pride for waking up each day and going to work. I don't feel like I am accomplishing much by taking Master's classes. I don't feel like I am doing much to speak of in this world. Sometimes I feel like I am just treading water, staying afloat until something significant happens. I have always told myself that one day I will have a child and the lack of direction and purpose in my current situation will suddenly be swallowed up by this tiny human that Cody and I create. I have always assumed that being a mother is the next big thing, and perhaps the only big thing. Standing in that familiar hallway yesterday I was forced to start considering a Plan B that doesn't involve motherhood the way I envision it.
And then the thought of a Plan B jogged my memory to a time years ago before I was married to Cody in which I enlisted the emergency contraceptive Plan B in a feverish meltdown over the .0001% possibility of getting pregnant without technically have sex. Yes, this truly happened, my friends. I have always been so supremely confident in my reproductive abilities (or perhaps unhealthily scared of being judged for an unplanned pregnancy) that I assumed I was pregnant before losing my virginity.
My name is Katy and I am neurotic and out of control and absolutely befuddled at the idea that I cannot get pregnant.
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