It Was Transparent, but I Was Thankful

I talked to one of my sisters on Tuesday night, and she said something that got me riled up. I don't remember, but suddenly I was venting about how no one in the family (save her, my mother, my sister-in-law in Virginia, and my niece) seemed to care about what I was going through. That no one ever called, no one emailed. And that our niece (the one who announced her pregnancy last week) was an insensitive bitch.

She was good. She let me rant, she tried to make some excuses for them but not too many, and then said she didn't know I felt that way. How could I not? You all know how I feel, I've spelled it out before how much they all hurt me by not inquiring.

And then she asked about why I thought Erica was insensitive. Really? Seriously? "I have the best fertility specialist in the region putting living, viable embryos into my uterus and I can't get pregnant. I don't want to hear that she got pregnant without even trying."

Oh, was the response. Yea, oh.

So yesterday my phone rang. A 315 area code but no name. Could have been someone's cell, I guess, so I answered. (315 is Syracuse, where most of my family lives.) It was my oldest sister. "Haven't talked to you in a while. Mom told me you were gearing up for your next procedure, so I thought I'd check in."

We talked for about 30 minutes. She gave me her updates. I told her what I was doing. I even congratulated her on being a grandma-to-be. I would have liked the conversation to end there, but she talked about how Erica was feeling, and the plans they were making for a bigger place, and that they would have such pretty babies because they were both so pretty. And of course, I started crying.

And she knew it. "Why are you crying?" And then she answered her own questions, excusing it on the hormones. And I let her think that was the case. I did ask for this, after all. I did want my siblings to be a little thoughtful with me, and reach out to me. So I guess this is what I get with it.

I know no one knows what the right thing to say is. I know it's a hard thing. And unless you've been living this with me for the past 18 months, you have no idea just exactly what I've been through.

To synopsize it into 6 failed IUI attempts and two failed IVF's, with one chemical pregnancy and subsequent miscarriage, does not give justice to what it has actually been. And so I'll give some slack to the ones who are just jumping on board now, and remember that this is what I wanted.

But there's something about the conversation that just didn't feel genuine. Like she was calling because she heard I was uattempted to comfort me when I was crying was a little too cavalier for my liking, she was over-looking anything that was just said that could have been the cause of the tears, over-looking that her daughter being pregnant could be very upsetting to me.

And maybe there is still awkwardness over the wedding this summer. Until amends are made, there will always be something that can't be said between us. (And at least in my end, something that will always be on the top of my tongue to say.) And maybe that was there. Maybe that was what I was sensing.

Or maybe it's time for me to go back to see my shrink. I've run into her at Wegmans and Kohl's recently. Maybe it's the universe's way of telling me that I've done the best job I can handling this complex roller coaster of emotions, but I need to call in the professional for a little advice. I'll see how this week goes.

I go in tomorrow for a follicle check and blood work. I've been giving myself 450 units of Gonal-F since Thursday night. I'll know tomorrow if it's been working the way we hoped.