Breakfast

For a couple of months now,  the spouse and I have been having smoothies for breakfast.

I used to do this everyday, back when I was stuffing myself with pineapple because it was supposedly helpful for implantation. Is that a myth? Anyway, my pineapple smoothie was always too bitter for the spouse, given that it was unsweetened. He preferred to fill up with starch and sugar for breakfast, especially knowing that there are never any carbs for dinner.

But the spouse picked up the smoothie vibe recently, as long as it includes oranges and any kind of berry. And I followed along, adding celery, almonds, flaxseed, chia, hemp protein or whatever I find to add all the protein and fiber I need. The berries and oranges make it palatable enough, and if there are no oranges, orange juice is just as good.

Taking the pineapple out of the equation has brought us together for breakfast.  I count that as yet another positive consequence of not trying anymore.

More gratuitous Schadenfreude

This time around I don't feel so bad, because the object of my Schadenfreude is  a total stranger. I had coffee recently with a friend, one of my former co-workers from the job I quit two years ago. I never regretted that decision, but it must be said that by the time I left, my supervisor had decided to cut my load. The person who was hired in my stead had it sooooo much easier... until now, that is. Another worker was fired, things have been rearranged and the load on that position is almost as bad as when I left. So as much as I pity the person who has to perform miracles in just 40 hours per week, I feel quite smug about having left.

Meanwhile, I am leaving my current job. It's been almost a year and a half and I was still under contract, feeling much like a horse with a carrot tied to its head. So I'm happy I'm leaving, even if it makes me look like a person who keeps changing jobs. I just wanted a job with benefits,  like paid vacation, a 401 K and health insurance. By the way, the new job's insurance covers IVF. So nice of them, but no thanks!

For the first time in almost 10 years I am starting a new job without any pregnancy worries. You know what I'm talking about: When you're just married (and you don't know you're infertile) you worry you'll get pregnant right after you start working, even if you're not trying to, and look like an idiot. And later, when you are doing ART but you don't want people to know at work, its hard to explain all those doctor visits, and deal with all the side effects while staying functional.

This topic still causes a little tension with the spouse, but otherwise the fact that we are not trying to get pregnant anymore gives me a sense of peace and freedom... the freedom to commit to a schedule and not have to worry about cycling, checking my ovaries, mood swings, bloating, swollen legs... And more importantly, no more heartbreaking.

Another woman's sorrow...

Right now my friend K is going through a divorce. We all saw it coming, even before she got married, except her. She's not prepared for this, while her husband is well stocked with expensive lawyers and a list of complaints and accusations, all of them based on an exaggeration of reality, while she aimed from the beginning towards a "friendly" divorce... Is there such a thing?

The kid's at risk of ending up with a chauvinistic father who will teach him to hate all women, especially his own mother, and treat them all as dogs. With the added irony of my friend paying for child support.

I know my friend needs me, but I am spent. No matter what I say, I don't understand. I'm not a mother. I did not end up with a lunatic incapable of any empathy, and I don't  have to send money back home to my parents or to a sick sibling,  I don't have to pay for daycare and a separate rent after moving out from an abusive household, and on top of that find a way to pay for expensive lawyers. I've no idea what she needs from me at this point, except listening and saying how sorry I am.

And deep inside me, a perverse voice tells me to cheer up because at least I was spared all those horrors.

I feel terrible.

Ack. It's that day again.

Found on facebook:

Mother's Day according to Louis C.K.: "To me, you're not a woman til you had a couple of kids and your life is in the toilet. That's really when you become a woman, when people come out of your vagina and step on your dreams."

Far be it for me to complain then, about dead people coming out of my vagina and ending up in the toilet, thus shattering my dreams.