I rarely pay attention to commercials – I tend to flip to another channel or go find food during them – but tonight I was stuck on the couch waiting for a show to return when a stupid commercial for juicy-juice came on. I don’t even remember exactly what it was, now, just that it was about how wonderful being a parent and raising a child is and all the things you’d do for that baby. It’s rare that commercials really get to me anymore, since I’ve just kind of tuned them out, but that one made the anger flare up in me. I mean, it makes no sense that I’m angry at the commercial, or the other mothers of the world, but I just want to say, “Yeah, well fuck you!” And really really mean it.

And the next commercial was for some HPTs. “Seriously? Is enough enough tonight?”

But of course I shouldn’t have been surprized, since it was leading into the next show: Jon and Kate Plus 8. Which I watched. I don’t actively watch the show, but if it’s on and I’m bored I will. It’s the only baby/child show that I can watch anymore, and for one very simple reason: when I watch it I do NOT get any kind of “I want that!!” feeling. Never ever ever. The thought of twins scares the bejeebus out of me, especially after losing a baby in a healthy singleton pregnancy, and sextuplets? Hahahahha. Yeah. Not. So most of the show was amusing, as usual.

One part did really irk me, though. This episode was a retrospective of their lives up to this point, which is why I watched it – very interesting. They were talking a little bit about infertility and how they ended up with sextuplets, and also showing a couple home movies from way back when. So she has PCOS, and though she didn’t say what treatments they did in order to get pregnant I would assume it was clomid or injects, possibly with IUI but not necessarily. She stated that the first time they went to the infertility specialist was in december, and they were pregnant in february. It hadn’t even been a year of trying (since she knew something was wrong, which I certainly don’t fault them for – if I knew something was wrong I wouldn’t be sitting around waiting, either). Pregnant on their first, possibly second, cycle of treatment. And yes, I know infertility is infertility, but jesus. If only it were so simple, right? Take a pill, fix the problem. And what got me was the home video of her holding up the positive HPT, obviously thrilled beyond belief, saying, “This may be the most wanted pregnancy ever.” Knee jerk reaction. Again, I can’t really fault her for feeling that way, and that was a home video, not something she was ever expecting to be displaying to the masses.

Obviously the babies WERE wanted and loved, and that’s what matter. I just don’t see them as being poster children for infertility. Am I splitting hairs, yeah. She wasn’t saying that she was, either. I just was watching it all with this frustration and envy bubbling up inside me. I’m just tired and frustrated.

::

Despite what it sounds like, today wasn’t a bad day at all. It was actually quite a nice day. It was my day off this week, and I slept in horribly late (thus why I’m awake and posting now… damnit). But then I got up and cleaned the house up, including scrubbing the toilet, inside and out… wow. Ate some food, did some exercise, posted on some forums a little.

The exercise… I got a wild inclination and found my exercise ball and my little free weights and did some working out. I’ve been focussed on being active and trying to lose weight, but I forget that a little bit of strength training can be almost fun. (Almost, I said. Don’t have a heart attack or anything.) And it’s good for me. I’ve also been very good about doing some ab work in the evenings. I know it’s not likely to “fix” the problem, but any little bit helps. I’m happy to see my body image improving, and I would like to keep that ball rolling in the same direction.

For whatever reason I felt a little nostalgic, and when I was in the garage looking for some weights I paused over the big pile of baby things…. things still in boxes that I never got to really see or play with. I hesitated for a minute, then grabbed the travel swing I’d received at my shower. I brought it inside and opened the box for the first time. It was in pieces and I didn’t really want to put it together – mostly out of fear that it would get broken and the knowledge that the cats would claim it as their own – but I got to look at and touch the fabric and the cute toys on it. It made me smile. It’s so cute.

Then, again for an unknown reason, I went into the basement to look for baby clothes. Why? I have no idea. I had no purpose to pulling out baby clothes. I didn’t want to cry. I just wanted to see them. I finally located the bin with the newborn clothes in it (after about 10 minutes of looking, during which I almost just shrugged walked away several times). I pulled out one of the blue velour footed sleepers, one of the sleepers I had earmarked as maybe bringing Devin home in (I had never decided for-sure on any one outfit). I grabbed that and the baby hats I had knitted and brought them upstairs.

I just sat there for a while, touching the velour, smiling at the cute bears that were on the front of the sleeper. It’s still there, on my desk. It was his, you know? It was Devin’s, even though he never got a chance to wear it. It was for him. I bought it full of hope and joy and love, and when I look at it I remember the good times. I was so happy… so damn happy. Some days reminders of how happy I was just point out how sad I am now. But other days it reminds me that it’s possible. All of it… the pregnancy, the baby, the joy. It existed. And we’ll have it again.

Frequently I find myself daydreaming about getting that positive HPT again, seeing those two pink lines. I imagine myself freaking out with joy and disbelief like I did the first time. I even had a dream about it last night. Then I usually end up just getting scared that, because I’m feeling so positive about it, it won’t happen. It’s this constant battle in my head between staying positive and fear that I’m setting myself up. But when we do get that positive… it will be just as sweet as the first time. Then will come the fear, yes. But first? First there will be joy. And I’ll cling to that for as long as I can.