Help. I’ve Fallen, and I Can’t…. Oh, F*@k It.

The dark days, the maddened grasping obsessive days, the Catbox days have arrived.

I have managed to stay out of the crazy place for much longer than in previous months. The writing is helping – in addition to hearing from other awesome women going through the same thing, it’s been a way of focusing all the helplessness and rage into something that connects me rather than isolates me. My husband has read each post and looked at me with new admiration and understanding, which has helped me feel so much less alone in this insanity. People have reportedly learned things here, so I’ve been able to feel useful in all this impotence, which, for good or ill, is the only way in which I can see any worth in myself. All the unspeakable silence and shame is lifting. It’s fucking awesome.

But here I am, right smack dab in the middle of the Catbox.

Just in case you need a refresher, the Catbox is the beastly, insufferable state one occupies in the final four days before taking a pregnancy test.

Just as Schrodinger’s cat is both alive and dead, simultaneously and with equal statistical likelihood, until such time as the box is opened and one possible reality collapses into the other, the final four days before testing are a barbaric thought exercise in which one is both pregnant and not pregnant, full and empty, positive and negative. After you’ve been doing it a couple of years you lose the ability to comprehend or translate the signals your body is sending, so that some parts of your anatomy are screaming joyously that you are all kinds of knocked up, while other equally legitimate and strident bits are solemnly pronouncing your uterus empty, empty, empty like the garbage cans after curbside pick-up.

My nipples, for instance, are planning the baby shower. End of September. It’s a Libra. We’re so happy.

My lower back, however, knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is no chance in an infinite number of hells, and that my period is lurking right around the corner. Walk it off, bitch.

Either one – either one – could be telling the truth. There are no statistically reliable methods by which you can eke even the merest shred of valuative differentiation between the two. It is maddening beyond even my power of speech.

Today was the first day that I really started to creep into the cray-cray. I find that I am unable to pay attention to what people are telling me, which is kind of an insurmountable challenge if you are a fucking therapist. In the past it was the hope that drove me insane – it’s poisonous, a cloying toxic miasma that can smother the oxygen right out of the air if you’re not careful. Now I generally banish the hope before it even starts, because it is just bloody well easier that way. Or it would be if it weren’t for my accursed fucking body shooting up these obnoxious little flares to just throw the whole planned hopelessness thing off the rail completely. It’s not over till it’s over. And you just so badly want it to be over, even though you know that the grief will come, all the terrible grief and numb disappointment that floods your body when you finally see the blood.

At least you have an answer.

These are the days when the fierce rejection of this month’s hope begins to go global, when the knowledge that you are barren and will never conceive seeps a little deeper into already porous bones. It’s something you just know. And at the same time, with the same fierce rejection, you know that it will someday happen. How can you know both these things so surely? How, in the face of this insane duality, can you know anything? Ever?

I am certainly not going to be consulting my nipples for any kind of clarity. They are over-zealous fucking reactionaries and I am totally over their bullshit.

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11 thoughts on “Help. I’ve Fallen, and I Can’t…. Oh, F*@k It.

  1. lol. this is so funny only because I totally “get it” .”barbaric thought exercise in which one is … ” “consulting nipples”. sister you hit this one out of the park.. thanks so much for making me laugh and cry tonight. stay encouraged and keep the faith #infertilitysmackdown

  2. Glad I could bring a little levity to all this awfulness. 😉 It’s pretty much the only way I survive it.

  3. Reblogged this on Fertility Doll and commented:
    You should read this post if you’re close to your period or going crazy in the two week wait. It’ll make you laugh.. so brilliantly written..
    “Just as Schrodinger’s cat is both alive and dead, simultaneously and with equal statistical likelihood, until such time as the box is opened and one possible reality collapses into the other, the final four days before testing are a barbaric thought exercise in which one is both pregnant and not pregnant, full and empty, positive and negative. After you’ve been doing it a couple of years you lose the ability to comprehend or translate the signals your body is sending, so that some parts of your anatomy are screaming joyously that you are all kinds of knocked up, while other equally legitimate and strident bits are solemnly pronouncing your uterus empty, empty, empty like the garbage cans after curbside pick-up.

    My nipples, for instance, are planning the baby shower. End of September. It’s a Libra. We’re so happy.

    My lower back, however, knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is no chance in an infinite number of hells, and that my period is lurking right around the corner. Walk it off, bitch.”

    • Thank you so much for reposting, my dear! It has been so cool getting feedback from awesome women like you, and hearing that my embittered ranting is doing some good in the world. 🙂 Sending big love and luck your way!

  4. Thumbalina says:

    Thank you my dear, for writing this! I was all kinds of upset today…..I was sobbing and pissy. My husband doesn’t even want to be in the same room with me, because I am entering the two week wait for the 36th time, and I’m not at all handling it very well. I am beyond bitter and less than positive about being pregnant this month….but between sobs of pity, I saw this reposted on Fertility Dolls blog, and I couldn’t stop laughing! It’s so true and it couldn’t have been more of an outstanding way to write how we feel! Too funny!

    • Yay for finding the funny!!! It’s the only way I can make it through all this. Oh, the crazy-making. Our poor gentlemen, there is just absolutely no way for them to understand what it feels like. Actually, I got kind of closer last week, although not with the hubby. My best friend is a dude and we have weekly Battlestar Galactica nights (go ahead and laugh, I’m ok with that). So last Friday we were watching and I don’t want to give anything away but there was a deadly virus and one of the characters was waiting in quarantine to find out if she had it, and I was like “YES!!! THAT is what it feels like!!!” And he said, “But, she’s waiting to find out if she’s going to DIE.” So I explained that when you’re waiting to find out if there is something living inside your body, it doesn’t matter if your hope is that it IS or that it ISN’T, you’re still in the very uncomfortable position of waiting to find out if there is something living inside your body. You’re checking all the signs, you’re tuning in to every freakish little molecular bubble, and your whole life feels like it’s riding on the answer.” And he was like, “OOOOOOHHHHH!!!! I get it!! THAT’S what the Catbox feels like!”

      Now if I can only come up with a jazz or video game podcast analogy, I could explain it properly to my husband. 🙂

      Good luck with the wait, my friend.

      • Thumbalina says:

        hahahah, no I think that’s great! When I first suspected I was pregnant last June, my husband and I were actually at our planetarium for an “Adler after Dark” program, where they open the planetarium once a month at night to those 21 and up. You can watch astronomy shows on the “sky theater”, drink mixed drinks named after nebula’s and play on all the space/anti-gravity toys…..oh yeah, my husband and I eat that shit up! lol. We go once a month. BUT last June, we were watching “Into the Universe” and you are looking up at the sky theater, and they take you ‘through’ space,….once they started shooting you to the next galaxy, I definitely threw up into the bag i was carrying. I looked to my husband and was like “YES!” ahahahaha, cause I never get sick! and the next day i got my BFP, (which sadly only lasted two weeks:( )

        But yes….men really have a hard time of getting it, i guess it’s ok as long as they understand what “bed . now” means lol.

        Good luck dear!

  5. sarah says:

    Wow. This could not have come at a better time – our bodies are untrustworthy bastards! I’ve got just 48 hours until my blood test and in the meantime I swing wildly from calculating the due date to planning what/how heavily I will drink the moment I get my period. It’s a precarious existence we inhabit. Thanks for writing!

    • Thanks for reading! Hope you’ve gotten good news, or if not that you’re enjoying something filthy and huge in a glass the size of a fishbowl with hilarious plastic monkeys hanging off the side. And an umbrella.

  6. yo-yo-mama says:

    Raw, honest, hilarious….perfect. Thank you for sharing your story.

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