The non-mom at the workplace

A new job means signing  up for new benefits. I will not be enjoying many of them, like discount tickets to kiddie stuff, discounts for daycare, the possibility of adding children to my medical insurance, money towards IVF, money towards adoption... wait, that one is still a possibility, right?

It's OK. Nothing is being taken away from me. Reading about it brings me some sadness, but that's nobody's fault.

What I can't stand, though, is the assumption that I can take just any shift or work overtime on a short notice. They can't really ask if I have kids or not, but they have probably guessed by now that I don't. I had to hear how X, Y and Z have flexible schedules in spite of them being parents of young kids... Well good for them. It still does not mean that I have to be as flexible as they are. Why does that make me feel selfish?

I've been there before, putting up with students who never left the lab on time because they had not finished their work. I had to stay late and deal with their rudeness and clean up after them, while my co-worker left on time because she had to pick up her kid from daycare. Nobody cared if I had tickets to the opera or plans for dinner. And I was never paid for overtime.

Anyway. My schedule is weird but I'll survive. And if the need arises, I hope they don't pressure me too much into volunteering for extra work. At least here I am guaranteed overtime pay.

PCOS decal

I did not know they made them.

They look like this:

Why would anyone put this on their cars? To spread awareness, sure, or maybe to avoid explaining their own weight or acne issues. Me, I prefer to avoid thinking about all those issues, and I'd hate to be reminded of them each time I approached my car.

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.

You can't make this up

I work in analytical chemistry. I needed some information on a Passing Bablok regression and did a Google search. I got as far as "passing bab..." when I noticed that Google's helpful pull down menu included a "passing bablock regression excel" search term, and I clicked on it. Well, I thought I'd clicked on it, but in reality I clicked by mistake on the listing right underneath it. And the very first search result was, of course, someone asking how you can tell if you're passing the baby or just a bunch of blood clots.

And so I cried at work once more. Not too much, hardly anyone noticed,  I think.

This stupid incident reminded me that:

a) I'm still very sensitive to the topic.
b) I used to have a blog where I whined about these things.

It's been a hard month. Even if it included the joy of meeting with very dear friends and family members, it also included the anniversaries of my two losses. It's been also a time of transitions and new challenges at work. The slow process of tapering off my antidepressant dose is not helping. I have not contacted Dr. Careful at all. I guess have no clue what I am going to tell her because really, I'd rather not go through another cycle.

For the same reason I find it hard to write about infertility. If I hate it so much, why am I so unwilling to do something about it?