Tuesday, April 25, 2017


It's been a weird week.  Yes, I know it's only Tuesday. I would have said the same thing yesterday (by noon).

When it comes to work, I am what a colleague once described as a "worker bee." Basically I get done what needs to be done, no matter how long it takes, how hard the task, and with no expectation whatsoever of recognition. I'm a behind the scenes sort of girl.

Before noon on Monday a professional opportunity presented itself. A promotion of sorts, though not really because it will involve all of my current responsibilities (with a small bit of redistribution) plus new responsibilities. This is something that I estimated was in the 5-7 years out range in my career trajectory. There are still a few conversations that I need to have and some negotiations will need to take place, so nothing is final yet, but despite people who are my senior being eligible for this, my name was the first to come up when the position opened up, so I must be doing something right.  To be honest, I don't feel like I have quite enough experience for this, but I've been assured that others have faith in me and my ability to do this (maybe more than I have in myself).

Later in the day on Monday I was called into a meeting and asked to do something, again that I didn't feel like I had the experience or seniority (though, in this case, I knew that I had the skills) to do.  Something far from fun but absolutely necessary. And it sucked. But it needed to be done.

I thought the day couldn't get weirder. It did.

The phone rang.  It was a person calling to inquire about my interest in a job.  I don't know this person and I didn't apply for the job.  The call was completely out of the blue. It sounds like a cool opportunity, but not a good fit for me, if for no other reason but it would require us to move to a different state. Still, I'm not going to lie, it feels good to have people contacting me about jobs instead of the other way around.

The day was just plain weird. Not bad weird, just weird. With potential to be really cool.

So how does this all relate to infertility? It doesn't, at least not directly.  The most significant thing for me is that I really feel like I'm finding myself again.  I lost me to infertility and then grief for a couple of years. I'm not fully back, but I'm getting there. And apparently others are noticing.

I'm not going to lie, I hope the rest of the week is normal!

Thursday, April 20, 2017

I miss

I love spring.  Everything wakes up.  Things start anew.  The sun comes out of hiding.  I start spending a lot of time outside.  My soul is recharged in so many ways.

But there are things about spring that amplify what I'm missing out on thanks to infertility.  Soccer, for example.

One of the things I most looked forward to about parenting was sharing our love of sports with our kids.  There are few things, in my opinion, cuter than a swarm of four and five year olds chasing after a soccer ball, everyone cheering when a goal is scored, no matter which team scores or whether or not it was in the correct goal.  The pure joy of sport.

Had things worked out differently, this is probably the first year that our kids would have been old enough to participate.

But we don't have kids.  So there will be no soccer games.

And I miss it.

Sunday, April 2, 2017

Sometimes I'm firing on all cyllinders

I have a warranty on my engagement and wedding rings that requires them to be inspected twice per year.  Yesterday I knew I'd be near the store, so I decided to pop in for the inspection and get it out of the way.  Not a big deal, usually in and out in under 10 minutes.

Upon entering the store, the following conversation ensued:

Me: Hi, I'm here for a warranty inspection on my rings.

I hand my rings to the saleswoman and she looks up the warranty information on the computer.

Salesperson 1: I'll get these inspected and back to you in a few minutes.

Meanwhile I'm just sort of wandering around the store (because what else is there to do in a small jewelry store?).  I see a second salesperson approaching me.

Salesperson 2: There's still time to order a custom mother's ring and have it here in time for Mother's Day!  You could pick out exactly what you want and take the paperwork home to your husband so he can order it.  Then the kids could surprise you with it on Mother's Day.

At this point, I'm thinking that it's April freaking first, like six weeks from Mother's Day.  What gives?  I decided to educate (with a little bit of snark thrown in for good measure).

Me: Actually, Mother's Day doesn't apply to me so I won't need a mother's ring.  Do you have any special promotions going on for National Infertility Awareness Week?  It's coming up soon and applies to me.

Salesperson 2 looks at me like I have three heads and was completely speechless.  I continue.

Me: Considering one in every seven couples struggles with infertility, it would be genius from a marketing standpoint.  Nothing says "it sucks that we're having trouble making a small human" quite like a diamond necklace.

Salesperson 2 is still speechless when Salesperson 1 returns with my rings.  I thank them both and leave the store.  I quite enjoyed the awkward silence.

Sales is difficult, I get that.  Their whole job is to sell things to people.  If they don't sell things they don't get their commission, they have bills to pay, and that's pretty darn motivating to sell things.  But it's not ok to assume that every thirty-something woman that wanders into a jewelry store is a mother. Maybe she is a mother.  Or maybe she is trying like hell to be one.  Or maybe she wants to be a mother so bad they can taste it, but hasn't found a suitable partner.  Or maybe she has already closed the door on motherhood and is moving on. Or maybe she lost a child. Or maybe she have no desire to be a mother.  I really hope that my response made her think twice before deploying the "mother's ring" sales strategy to the next thirty-something female who walked in.

Luckily I was in a good headspace on Saturday afternoon and my reaction was one of "are you kidding me" as opposed to her words being painful.  A few years ago I don't think I would have handled it so well (or with so much sarcasm).