Acronyms have become such a huge part of our life since we began TTC (ba-dum-bum) This is not going to be another list. You can find one of those here or here, if you’re not completely, painfully familiar with the wonderful world of infertility.
I really only have two to get into today. I’ll start with the one I don’t like, so I can finish up with the cute anecdote.
I’m sure everyone has their own personal hot buttons when it comes to infertility. One of mine happens to be an acronym. When I see it, I want to grind my teeth into jagged stumps while cursing my own confused ovaries. It’s dpo. I hate those three little letters. They sum it all up for me, because I’ve only once been able to count days past ovulation instead of cycle days.
At first, if asked what I wanted, of course I would have replied pregnancy. Now, that seems like Everest. Now, I want to ovulate. It doesn’t even have to be every cycle, every other one would be just fine. It’s like when you’re young and you say you want four kids or six kids or, bless your procreative little heart, a dozen, and now it’s ‘please just one.’
The other acronym is DH. I cut down on Facebook in January and started tweeting. A few months later my darling husband did the same, and one day he sheepishly came to me with a question.
‘Does DH mean dumb husband?’
Come on, how cute is that?
Today is CD1. The last one for a while. Because this is IT. I’ve got the right drug cocktail, I’ve got the right fertility fetishes (not that kind of fetish, dirty minds!), I’ve got the right mindset.
I have to wonder, though. Can you have too much of a good thing? Can I be too positive and optimistic? Wouldn’t it be kinder to my fragile little psyche if I were a little more cautiously optimistic? I really did stop to seriously consider this, and do you want to know what I came up with?
I don’t care.
It may be kinder, but I don’t care. It may be more logical, but I don’t care! I don’t care if I’m too positive, I don’t care if I’m too optimistic. I don’t care if it’s good for me, I don’t care if it’s bad.
I have spent my entire life trying to be prepared for the worst. Guess what that has taught me. Go ahead. I’ll give you a minute.
Trying to be prepared for the worst has taught me that it’s impossible. If the worst does come, you’re not ready for it. The worst is, by definition, pretty darn bad. The worst is actually worse than you thought it could be. And since the actual worst is worse than the worst you made any kind of plans for, you’re screwed either way. You’ve either wasted your time worrying about the bad tomorrow that never came, or you’ve been slapped in the face by your biggest nightmare times ten.
Well, I quit.
All that’s done for me is make me feel bad about myself. I’m tired of feeling bad about myself, and there’s actually plenty of reason for me to feel good about myself. I’m going to focus on that for a while.
So if you’re looking, a spot has just opened up for a Negative Nancy, because I’ve thrown in the towel. No benefits, and you have to train yourself. No pay, but if you’re really good at it, you can make others miserable as well as yourself.
See? It’s working already. I put a positive spin on negativity!