Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Two Sour Face in a Pod

Firstly, I want to say thank you for dropping by to read my blog of ramblings. You ladies are so incredibly amazing and full of spirit. A few of you made me cry with what you wrote. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

It is comforting (and sad at the same time) to know that there are people out there who is going through the same thing and understands you and know what it feels like. Apeman is a nice boy but he is not as accomodating as I would like him to be. Thank you cyber friends.

On Monday I did a bit of a big walk around town during lunch time. Partly because I need a breather from neon bright computer glare, but most importantly I need a quick fix so I walked to my favourite shoe shop and have a sniff of their new leather boots.

Like any other day, fertility issues were on my mind. I think at that exact moment I was thinking about the pros and cons of possibly doing an IUI cycle when I return from my long holiday in July (because with IUI - it is less invasive - no drugs no nothing). To match the occasion, I have an equally sour expression on my face (head down, mouth twisted to one side, screwed up forehead..etc - much like a constipated alien).

Suddenly face up and I saw a familiar face. A very well dressed, slim and attractive woman in a perfect pencil skirt was walking towards me. She had a similar expression to mine - sour looking, a questionable look, sad? Maybe a little. She looked a little sad to me.

Then I realise who she was. A woman I used to spend maybe hours watching when I was doing IVF at my previous clinic. We must be in sync with our hormonal pattern - so we have a similar timetable for bloodwork and ultrasounds and always end up sitting in the waiting room together. Sometimes I smile and nod and she did the same. Sometimes I just sit and check out her shoes. Her shoe collection is as good as mine. I think we did this synchronised cycling for maybe half a year.

She didn't recognise me. But I did. Even though it was a year further down the track since I last saw her.

And I felt sad straightaway. For both of us.

I want to go up to her and hug her and say, it's been a long road hasn't it?

But at the same time, as twisted as it may sound, I feel comforted. Knowing that I am not alone, and even as I walk down the crowded terrace in search for a leather fix I can still bump into people who has fertility problems just like me.

Tis a small and twisted world afterall. I wish you luck too Miss Hot Shoes Collection 2005.

6 comments:

Thalia said...

I'm glad you found a compatriot in the streets. I never seem to recognise anyone from the clinic but it is a pretty big clinic. Hoping that both your roads turn positive soon.

Alli and Frankie said...

Hey, you can't go wrong in a shoe store. Glad you got some comfort. Did you get the boots?

Wishing you luck!!

Drew said...

:) thanks girls....alli - I am wearing them...:):):)

Eggs Akimbo said...

You are a gorgeous person Drew. Very compassionate.

StellaNova said...

I don't look at any woman in the same way anymore. If they have no child (and they aren't 18 years old), I wonder what challenges they face. If they have a child, I wonder how hard it was for them to get there. If I see twins, I think IVF. This journey has changed us forever - in many good ways as well as bad. I feel like it has opened my heart to the world (sometimes a little too much as I don't have enough protection). I hope I have become more sensitive and compassionate. You obviously have. And of course you couldn't help but bond over the fabulous shoe stash!

Betty said...

I got a little tear Drew. I often mooch around with that grumpy face with IF on my mind whilst searching for new clothes to fill my void. Quite a few months ago I saw a woman at my clinic who had been having her very first pick up at the same time as my very first pick up...and that was quite a few months before that. She said to me "oh no it's not good to see you again, I know what you are going through". I wanted to hug her for saying that because oddly, I felt like I belonged.