Posted by: chicagoshells | March 18, 2012

My City, the Frat House

Well, we’re halfway through the two week wait.  As I mentioned, I had a pretty busy week work-wise, so I haven’t been as obsessive as I could have been.  Not to say that I haven’t obsessed.  Our inseminations were Friday and Saturday and then Trouble’s temp didn’t rise on Monday, so only a couple days in I convinced myself that it was a wasted cycle.  Then she had a big spike on Tuesday, so I thought
“Hmm, might still be OK, maybe she ovulated later on Sunday and some sperm might have still been hanging on…” Then Wednesday her temp was low again so I was back to the whole “We have no chance this cycle” mode.  That day I vented on a GLBT fertility discussion board and quite a few women who have been at this far longer than I told me to just hide the damn thermometer in the two week wait.  So Trouble stopped temping, and it actually has seemed to help. Not that I’ve stopped thinking about it, of course, but I’m trying to think from a more Zen perspective– what’s done is done, we can’t change it now, what will be will be, etc.  Yeah, it works about as well as you might expect.  And I hear the second week is even worse.

To be honest, with the other thoughts that have been occupying my mind this weekend, obsessing about maybe-baby is almost a welcome relief.  Yesterday was Saint Patrick’s Day, you see.  On a Saturday.  In Chicago.  In unseasonably warm weather.  The combination of all those things meant that, from Thursday night through this morning, my lovely city (or at least the neighborhoods that my home and my workplace are in) resembled a frat house during pledge week (OK, disclaimer.  I went to an all-women’s college with no “Greek” life, so my knowledge of frat houses and the like is actually a bit lacking.  But I’ve seen plenty of movies).  Whether the comparison is totally accurate or not, imagine hundreds of loud, drunk, obnoxious people swarming the streets, sidewalks, and public transportation.  It’s awful, and I hate it every year.  But this year…well, the accident that suspended my life for a few months took place on Halloween weekend.  Another holiday that, in my neighborhood, has become an excuse to get extremely drunk and make an ass of yourself in public.  And while I don’t know if the drunk woman who plowed her car into me had been engaging in Halloween-specific activities…well, being out and about on a weekend like this proved difficult, to say the least (New Year’s Eve would be the third in the list of “holidays as excuses to drink,” but at that point I was still mostly home-bound.  Trouble and I ordered pizza and had a Harry Potter movie marathon.  There was no venturing into the outside world).  I would have stayed home all this weekend if I could get away with it, but unfortunately I had to work…which also meant I had to get home.  On Saturday night at 10:30pm, through one of the worst neighborhoods for all this madness.  Also, I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this or not, but my workplace is about half a block south of the intersection where the accident took place.  So I crossed the street right there to try to catch a cab, which I’ve done a dozen times in the past few months, but not with the amount of car horns honking and general screaming that was going on in the neighborhood last night.  Add that to several drunk people attempting to get in the cab with me at various traffic lights, the three different ambulances that roared through the streets in my 10-minute cab ride, and the numerous people being complete idiots and trying to run across streets while cars swerved around them, and it’s really no wonder that I limped into my house and practically fell into Trouble’s arms, starting to sob and hyperventilate at the same time.  She calmed me down, as she does, and we talked about everything…the upshot of the conversation being that perhaps I should stop staring at the phone number for a therapist that a friend recommended to me weeks ago and actually, I don’t know, maybe call it and make an appointment. 

I’ve always been 100% clear about the fact that I’m not quite myself physically yet, and the fact is that I’m not quite there psychologically either.  Car accidents, drunkenness, hospitals, biking…all kind of things can trigger an emotional response in me right now, so right now is a good time to deal with that.  It’s related to the baby thing in a lot of ways, actually…I don’t want to be That Mom who wants to wrap her kids in bubble wrap before they are allowed to play outside, and while I do think that time will continue to help, some coping tips from a professional can’t possibly hurt.  So…add that to my list for this week.

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Responses

  1. It was bad, for sure. And I can’t imagine trying to get through it with the memory of having been hurt under similar circumstances–we got in a little fender bender a couple weeks ago and I still get really nervous every time we go through that intersection even though no one got hurt. Luckily it’ll be a while before another drunko-holiday hits, so hopefully talking it through with the therapist will have done its magic by then!

  2. I definitely would! The accident in itself would have left me freaked out enough, but for it to happen while ttc in the way we are (which is emotional in all sorts of ways, but also feels strangely vulnerable – or perhaps that’s just me) is a lot to expect yourself to cope with without some outside support


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