It's nice to know what we're dealing with, but the knowing sucks in other ways. At least in theory we can remove the "unexplained" portion of our infertility. (Maybe, anyway; to be honest, the verdict doesn't totally jive with previous tests, but as seems to be the case with infertility in general, who the fuck knows. First they guessed female factor, then they said male factor, then female became the assumption once those tests seemed to get better, then back to male and I'm looking perfect. Oh god, what if we're that tiiiiiny percent of the population in which both people are part of the problem and we're somehow swapping back and forth LIKE MAGIC? Lottery of Lame.)
(Also, this might mean I have to get violent with my acupuncturist, who put me on this "no alcohol, no coffee, no spices of any kind, no SHRIMP" diet. Because if I'm denying myself shrimp for no reason, heads are going to roll!)*
(ASIDE: I'm sorry, to anybody reading this, that my blog is so, so, SO overshare-y. I should probably learn to zip it better. At this rate the Internet can just become my doctor. Sorry, Internet, for the excessive bitching about intimate details. I'm sorry for all the squicks.)
I finished reading Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar
the other day, and more than anything, it's given me so many small pinpricks of sage smartness.
I’ll never know and neither will you of the life you don’t choose. We’ll only know that whatever that sister life was, it was important and beautiful and not ours. It was the ghost ship that didn’t carry us. There’s nothing to do but salute it from the shore. -- DEAR SUGAR, THE RUMPUS ADVICE COLUMN #71: THE GHOST SHIP THAT DIDN’T CARRY US
Others from other columns:
I don’t know why we forget it when something truly awful happens to us, but we do. We wonder why me? and how can this be? and what terrible God would do this? and the very fact that this has been done to me is proof that there is no God! We act as if we don’t know that awful things happen to all sorts of people every second of every day and the only thing that’s changed about the world or the existence or nonexistence of God or the color of the sky is that the awful thing is happening to us.
Most things will be okay eventually, but not everything will be. Sometimes you’ll put up a good fight and lose. Sometimes you’ll hold on really hard and realize there is no choice but to let go. Acceptance is a small, quiet room.
*Sorry acupuncturist. I like you! Please keep sticking needles in me.