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03/18/2007
Julie to IVF: Let's just be friends
I used to date a jackass. Okay, to be strictly accurate, I used to date a lot of jackasses, but I am thinking of one in particular. I met him during my senior year in college, fell in love, and moved 2,000 miles after graduation to be with him. I can sum up our three-year relationship in three simple sentences.
- The sex was great.
- The rest was not.
- He told my mother he didn't find me funny.
Wait, no, make that four sentences. He dumped me. We hadn't fought, but we hadn't been happy. I suppose he thought he was being kind by telling me gently that it wasn't me, he just didn't want a girlfriend anymore. I guess he thought he was fifty kinds of smooth when he said, in a tone of consolation, "In five years, you're going to be one hell of a woman."
He was right, in a way: Obviously I had not yet come into my own. If I had, if I'd been older, more experienced, more seasoned, I would have summoned an exquisite calm and told him, "I'm one hell of a woman now." Or maybe run over him seven or eight times with the fearsome 1988 Oldsmobile juggernaut I drove at the time.
Either option would have been better. Instead I just cried for a couple of weeks, moved all of my things out of his apartment while he wasn't home, and, after a brief period of mourning, continued to have sex with him for the next several months whenever he happened to call.
How I do miss those happy times.
The first few weeks were hard, as any breakup is. I didn't want him back, but I still felt the need for answers, a masochistic drive to know what had really gone wrong. Because my dignity — always dignity — was at stake, and because I knew how weak I could be, I covered the touch-tone pad of my phone with a bright yellow Post-It that said in big red letters, "DON'T CALL." (In smaller black print was "...you spineless asshole.")
This is where I am with IVF. Now and then I run across a piece of information that makes me want to pick up the phone and ever so casually ask IVF to come on over for dinner, if it doesn't already have other plans, which, hey, that would be fine with me, I just thought I'd ask. Of course, we'd end up drunk and in bed, and the next day I'd hate myself and look like hell and swear I would never do it again. But then a few weeks later there I'd be, sexing it up with IVF; bitterly resenting the fact that it didn't even bother to shave before it came over; secretly really enjoying the whiskerburn here and there; incredulously telling it hell, no, it can't use my toothbrush; gritting my teeth while listening to it snore and wondering, "Can this be all I get?"
(It occurs to me I may have said too much.)
Believe me, I know it's over. More than ten years after that earlier dumping, I don't need a neon yellow stickie to shore up my resolve. The temptation is only mild and fleeting, more or less easily resisted. But it is there. If you've ended treatment, do you still nevertheless feel the urge now and then? Because I am patiently waiting for it to go away. I am relying on faith that it will go away. Right?
Oh, and about the jackass. In case you're curious, I didn't call him, not during those dangerous weeks when all I'd have managed were questions and tears. We stayed friends, after a fashion, meaning he occasionally borrowed my car and I eventually ceased to wish him dead. And I had the last few laughs.
First, as I was loading my U-Haul truck to move in with Paul in New York, he showed up on my doorstep crying. "If things don't work out with this guy," he gulped, with messy tears and runny nose, "will you promise to come back to me?" And I said no, of course, because, dude, you told my mother you thought I wasn't funny.
Second, I married Paul and he married a perfectly lovely woman with what has to be the most appalling mullet this side of Cannery Row.
If I were IVF, I'd be pretty scared right about now. See what happens when you mess with one hell of a woman?
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Are those... chili peppers on her necklace?
That's not really his WIFE, is it??? Jesus.
You are one hell of a woman, and if IVF doesn't know it it's its loss!! (3 its in a row... is it still grammatically correct?)
Oh, this was too funny. IVF will always regret not having you in its life. But your life, will go on.
(I am totally going to hell for mocking that haircut, because I'm sure she's a wonderful person.)
So, that's REALLY her? Oh God. That's the worst mullet I've ever seen. And I've seen more than my share.
PETA is hiring a lawyer on behalf of that mullet.
You have uncovered evidence of...the Ur-Mullet. The mullet that came before all mullets. The mother...of mullet-kind.
I'm trying to count how many times I compromised my dignity by letting some jerkwad get a leg over after he more or less dumped me. Fortunately for me, I eventually I put down my crack pipe and found a nice man. But sometimes it's fun to recall the angst-ridden days of my youth, if only to remind myself of how good I have it now and how far I've come.
I can see how those two articles on mini-IVF and testosterone sound tempting. Who could blame you if you, y'know, looked into it a little more before making a final decision?
Julie... your relationship with mullet lover AND IVF have made you a much better person. You're an awesome Mom and wife and friend and you are the Julie we all laugh with today because of those life experiences. I don't have to tell you that :)
And dammit you are too funny.
I think your mom didn't hear him right. Clearly he said he didn't find you funny looking. That's the only thing that makes sense when confronted with that picture.
The first thing I thought when I found out we finally had ivf coverage was that maybe I could do it without my husband finding out. I mean, he wouldn't have to know, right? That's when I knew I had a problem.
I totally gave up on treatment (for miscarriage). I had six miscarriages for no reason that anyone could find. I adopted the most beautiful wonderful baby ever, in a very happy open adoption. When she was 9 months old the nearby universtiy called and asked me to be part of a study on habitual "aborters." I had every reason to say no, I had completely moved on and was looking forward to adopting again. Yet the second that research student started questioning me, I was sucked in again. Maybe I could experience pregnancy! That study quickly diagnosed my problem, I had surgery. I gave birth two years later, and again 4 years after that. Then 4 years ago we were presented with adoption again.
So 4 kids now when I never thought I would have one. NOW, I'm done. No, really.
That boy who thought you weren't funny probably likes Gallagher and Jerry Lewis.
You are not just ONE hell of a woman, you're a hell-of-a-woman-and-a-half. A hell of a woman plus an order of fried plantains. Mmmn, plantain.
The urge to call... something I've strugged with more or less incessantly since I Became a Woman (and began my lifelong tango with dicks literal and figurative). I tend to overthink things, though, and will always wonder, "Would calling make me a weak, capitulating little bitch, or would NOT calling make me mindlessly stubborn and incapable of evaluating my options in the face of new evidence, much like certain sitting world leaders I could name?"
Which is a long-winded, entirely too ME-centric way of saying... I don't think this is a binary choice. Sure, at some point, you HAVE to say "when" - unfortunately, in an era where ethically-flexible doctors are able to help sixty-five year-old Italian nonnas have kids, "when" is never going to be as crystal-clear as it was in the past.
Maybe it needs to come in fits and starts, with who knows how many surprises and reconsiderations and revelations and late-night sob-in-the-couch sessions along the way. The absence of a line of demarcation royally sucks... but between science and hope and heartbreak and finance and the fact that you and Paul make really, really awesome babies, how COULD there be one?
Although my situation is a bit more complicated (no uterus, so need a surro) I still have infrequent yearnings to try IVF again. It has gotten better, but there are moments of weakness. Mainly when I see babies, or someone I know has one. BUT then I come back to reality and while I am wistful, I am happy. If my husband is happy with no bio-children, we are fine. If he decided tomorrow that he wanted a child, I think I would be shooting up Lupron by the bottle, knowing what I know and what I've been through, I would still do it, so maybe I am not cured, just on the wagon....barely. Best of luck to you Julie, and the mullet lady got the short end of the stick! (that guy played himself out, you are the bomb in case ya didnt know, much more than a HELL OF A WOMAN,you are an inspiration)
Um, is your X that lovely woman's beard? WOW.
Julie, what a woman you are! Not only have you managed not to call and make an ass out of yourself with an ex-boyfriend but you *also* know how to make paper snowflake vaginas. I'm not worthy. Truly.
That mullet is hardcore. You need to respect someone who's willing to go out in public like that.
Holy shit. I can't even remember what the rest of your post EVEN SAID, as that horrendous haircut has completely shattered my train of thought.
Oh yeah - the lingering pangs for another go at IVF. I think someday you'll just KNOW. You'll flip flop back and forth until one morning you'll just unfathomably KNOW without a shred of doubt that you:
A) Can't imagine going throught it again, or
B) Can't imagine NOT trying one more time
You just will.
Now pardon me, I must go and wash my eyes out with muric acid.
Having Malka in our lives for over a year now, thanks to adoption, I STILL get the urge to ttc for #2.
And then I remember what a hangover feels like. A REALLY bad one. A REALLY REALLY bad one.
And then I smile in bliss thinking of the joy that Malka has brought into our lives.
But I also still get cigarettes every so often, even though I quit over 4 years ago. But it passes. I still think of it fondly, and longingly look at cigarette butts on the pavement that still have half a cigarette left, and have a fleeting moment of: "should I?" And then I keep walking...
Julie - I've been following you for years, almost from the start. I also struggled with infertility and ended up delivering my daughter just after Charlie's birth. Anyway, we began attempts to conceive #2 about when you did, and we've just learned that in the 4 years since I was first introduced to infertility thanks to endo, my eggs have gone from that of a 17-year- old to complete shit. As in, we won't take your money for IVF even if you pay us double. I am the nightmare that will haunt their IVF stats. So, we are considering adoption. No point to this except to say that I understand.
Other ways that IVF is like a jackass boyfriend:
IVF is the one you date, not the one you marry. Remember that old saying?
Good times... Good times...
The problem with IVF is that it always wants a prenup. "Shared risk plans" they call 'em.
Sure, IVF is a good romp, but have you ever noticed that whenever you go out, IVF ALWAYS seems to have forgotten that old wallet, left it in the OTHER sturrups....
Loser.
We all want have had that guy. And we all wonder occasionally, what if???
Occasionally, I think about calling my dr and telling him I'm ready again, and have to hold myself back. I've been lucky twice, maybe this time, I wouldn't be, and the testing....yadda, yadda, yadda.
BTW, love that haircut.
Well, hell. Anybody who can work "Dignity...always dignity" into casual conversation is my idea of cool. If this thing with Paul doesn't work out, wanna drag your U-Haul over here?
You managed to keep from calling with a mere Post-It? Damn, I had to unplug my phone every night at dusk and give it to my next-door neighbor. And I didn't even know my next-door neighbor until then. He seemed to understand, though.
My asshole ex can be currently found on MySpace knocking 20 years off his age, using a photo from, I kid you not, 1980, listing his interests as "porn," and looking for "open minded drama free females." I would be so proud if he'd gotten married, even to a mulleteer.
Wanting to TTC again, even though you know it ain't gonna happen? Pretty much every day here. The worst part is knowing that if we'd managed to carry a baby to term as early as we stupidly thought we would, the answer to #2 would have been yes, definitely.
Oh well. At least I have two great guys in my family, neither of whom are on MySpace at all (although I have my suspicions about the little one).
Wow.
Your post was beautiful, funny, and heart-breaking all at the same time.
I think it is okay to mock people with mullets, even if they are nice. I mean, honestly, who gets a mullet these days and thinks "Man, everyone is going to be rushing out to get a haircut like mine as soon as they see how awesome I look." They've really just set themselves up for a lifetime of being made fun of because, even once the mullet is gone, the memory of the mullet will be forever.
OMG that woman not only has a mullet, she has a bright green tattoo! And a roll of belly peeping out between her top and her pants! She must have a really fantastic personality!
Julie, you're tons more than One Hell Of A Woman! And the fact that the mullet-lover didn't find you funny says heaps more about him than about you.
But how could you continue to let him borrow your car???? That's really dumb! Sex with him? Meh! But lending him your car? WHY would you do that?
Oh, and the IVF? I get the feeling you need to give it another go. But don't lend it your car!
I used to capitalize on my inability to memorize telephone numbers by erasing all of my ex's numbers from every phone, destroying any email or piece of paper it would be on, and I still managed to find a way to call him, telling myself "This will be good for my self-esteem in the end" and it never was.
MY mother thinks you're very funny.
Well, WE think you're damned funny. :)
My mother, my grandmother, and my husband's grandmother think you are freakin' hilarious.
I find you incredibly funny. AND I shave my legs each time I come here.
*i* think you're funny!
i'm surprised you could keep yourself away from the phone with a post it. i unplugged my phone....for days. ahhh, good times.
love
me
ps--i think you should give a more stern warning before springing a mullet like that on us unawares. geeeyah!!!
Um. He seems to have married a lesbian. Clearly, he never got over you.
While condescendingly declining my invitation to the junior prom, the boy I loved since kindergarten told me I was going to be the hottest Volvo-driving mom ever but wasn't the type you dated in high school. Hmmmph. Living well is the best revenge yada blah blah, but I don't think the sting ever completely fades for us Helluva MILFs. I love my daughter so much it sometimes causes me to overstep my bounds when singing the praises of adoption. It's a love I'd never imagined, yet I wonder what if re ART every day. A different clinic, a new doctor, a tweak in the protocol ... I'm convinced the magic formula is right there, just out of my grasp. ART is a monkey I can't shake. It has me second-guessing myself even as I wrangle paperwork for #2. I've given up hoping I'll escape its grip -- I think the only cure is menopause. (Though, as Jul mentioned about the Italian nonnas, we'll probably still be wondering what if long past menopause.)
LOL!!!!!
lol!!!!!!
ROFL!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh, sweetie-- it wasn't you. Clearly your ex is gay and not OK with it and needed to marry a lesbian so that he wouldn't have to have boy-girl sex.
Please. You do lesbians everywhere a grave disservice. I'm pretty sure they're in no hurry to claim that particular hairdo, either.
if we had the cash, I'd do it again. even though I did not get a live baby out of the deal (got one the old fashioned way). Also read the "mini" cycle info and was also, well, intrigued. But your analogy is a great one. Its so hard to walk away from it...especially when you have Charlie as a result.
I think I recognize that mullet. I definitely recognize the necklace. My hometown is populated with such creatures.
Hope is tricky.
I spent years in an emotionally abusive relationship with IVF. Last fall IVF finally hurt me so deeply that even *I* had to admit it was over. Even so, I might call IVF now - you know, just to say hi - if I thought it would come to the phone.
I'm in a new relationship with DE and so far things are going OK.
To say the "most appalling mullet" implies that there are some less appalling mullets out there. I think we need to clarify that while all mullets are equally appalling, they vary in severity - much like tornados. I'd give that one an M-5, as it has apparantly caused widespread and devastating optical damage to anyone who has linked to that picture.
And I fight the urge all the time to let myself get pregnant again because it's hard to face being done, even knowing full well what my pregnancies mean. With me though, only part of it is the wonderfullness of a baby. The other part (and this is sad to admit) is the gamble. I became addicted to the testing, the milestones, the excitement, the "what-if's" and the "4-more-days-till-I-know-for-sure's". The fact that I'm almost, but not quite past my definition of too old to do this anymore adds to my anxiousness about it as well. It sounds less weak to say that I am addicted to hope, so I'll just say that, and keep on inserting my Nova-Rings.
For now.
To say the "most appalling mullet" implies that there are some less appalling mullets out there. I think we need to clarify that while all mullets are equally appalling, they vary in severity - much like tornados. I'd give that one an M-5, as it has apparantly caused widespread and devastating optical damage to anyone who has linked to that picture.
And I fight the urge all the time to let myself get pregnant again because it's hard to face being done, even knowing full well what my pregnancies mean. With me though, only part of it is the wonderfullness of a baby. The other part (and this is sad to admit) is the gamble. I became addicted to the testing, the milestones, the excitement, the "what-if's" and the "4-more-days-till-I-know-for-sure's". The fact that I'm almost, but not quite past my definition of too old to do this anymore adds to my anxiousness about it as well. It sounds less weak to say that I am addicted to hope, so I'll just say that, and keep on inserting my Nova-Rings.
For now.
And I'll SAY IT AGAIN!
Man, that is some mullet! And you didn't even comment onthe colorful tattos and awesome elastic waste shorts. I hope you have that picture on your fridge--it's too good to keep locked up!
Nope. I reject that photo and that haircut. (I did have a t-shirt made for my own bemullet'd man that she could rock pretty hard, though:
http://dashislittle.blogspot.com/2007/03/mullet.html)
Ok I came across your blog almost by accident. I have not ever delt with infertility although I did have a full term stillborn son (17yrs ago). You caught my attention with the analogy of your relationship with "Jackass" and the similar habits I practice (unfortunately almost to this minute) Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I find your FREAKIN HALARIOUS!!! (Isn't it funny how real life is so much funnier than anything made up?) The faults of "Jackass" are way to numerous to mention but anyone who does not find you funny is just an OxygenTheif. Though I am not the demograpic of your typical reader I will likely be lurking around looking for a good belly laugh.
Is the mullet woman for real? Does she really find that attractive?
I hope that IVF can leave you alone, so you can focus on other wonderful things in your life. :)
Yes, I do still want to get in touch with treatments untried. It's usually a drunk dialing type of thing.
It's never fully gone away, but the times between those urges is much, much further apart than I ever imagined it could be.
I hope yours do go away, I know women that has happened too. In my case, I think the little pangs will show up from time to time through out my life. I look at it as a greiving process and I don't think grief ever really goes away, stops, is never on your mind.
Doesn't it suck when something uncomfortable turns out to be normal? I'd much prefer it be freakishly abnormal with a lovely narcotic prescribed to make it go away.
I have a stalker like relationship with IVF - that's how I recently found your blog. I just had a baby via IVF five months ago. She is perfect and yet I am already thinking about IVF #2! The voices in my head are telling me "it wasn't SO bad." What the hell is wrong with me?
Like you, I have made that decision. That it's over between me and IVF. But so many days I've been hit with that feeling - and the "what ifs" come calling. Time and again, I must remind myself that it's the best decision for our family. You aren't alone in your thinking.
I agree that it's a grieving process. I have accepted my own decision, but I still get really emotional at certain times. But those "certain times" happen less and less these days.
And as for Jackass - what was he smoking? You WERE & ARE one hell of a woman!
Whoa, that is some kinda mullet.
So, that mini-IVF thing certainly is intriguing. Especially since I am 38-year-old poor responder. The idea of spending only $400 on drugs to produce the same amount of eggs got my attention. Now, how to talk my know-it-all RE into it?
I am sure that Ms. Mullet is a very nice person who just prefers a low-maintenance hairdo. But do you think she notices people whispering behind her back when she goes out in public? I am always having to shush my husband, because he's the kind who will say in too loud of a voice, "holy shit, look at that mullet!" (Although, he himself insists on wearing a vaguely mullet-like zipper-head haristyle, and is in complete denial about it.) How do the mullet-afflicted deal with that kind of snarkiness?