First and foremost, thank you all for your heartfelt congrats.  Of course paranoid me didn’t allow myself to bask in them for long for fear of 1. Jinxing things (ridiculous I know), 2. getting my hopes up, and 3. getting my hopes up. I just can’t. Not yet. Especially since I’m feeling less pregnant recently.

As of Sunday, my nausea has decreased dramatically. I still have moments, especially before and after dinner time, where I have traces of it, but it seems to be on hiatus currently. Am I worried? Abso-f’ing-lutely. But in scanning my baby center posts I see that I posted “Nausea come & go” on August 14 which was last Wednesday only to have the weekend from hell. Sure I didn’t puke, but doing so may have been better than feeling like my guts would explode at any minute. Now I’m fine-ish. My boobs are less sore even. I have a tad bit more energy. No bleeding, no cramps, but we all know how this goes. Symptoms or no symptoms anything can happen. I’ve just got to continue waiting, hoping, and praying. Speaking of praying, I’m not a religious person, but I do pray. Yet, I can’t bring myself to say things like, “God, please, please, PLEASE, don’t let me miscarry.” My prayers go more like this, “God, let it work out as it should. Let nature run its course. And let me be strong enough to handle it.” I really do want that – for nature to unfold as it should so that a healthy baby comes from all this now or eventually. I know, I know I sound negative, but with Symptom Vanish 2013 can you blame me? At 7 weeks 1 day, I’m feeling more normal by the second. My next scan isn’t until Monday because we have family in town, family I’m not comfortable bringing to the fertility clinic, but I might just have to see if they can fit me in. I’m worried.

In other news, I think either I’ve made some bad decisions in choosing and investing in my friendships or people are just assholes. In the last week two friends have said things to me that are so totally obnoxious I must ask you to brace yourself. Seriously. I’ll start with the lesser of the two evils.

Shame on Me

Evil # 1. Last week when recounting to one of my supposed best friends about my miscarriage fear and the spotting she proceeded to go on a tirade about how happy she is she isn’t married and how disgusted she is by the thought of having and caring for children.  I’ve heard this before. Like a billion times. I respect her stance on it. But why say it again and again and why then in my vulnerable moment? We weren’t talking about her, we were talking about ME and MY fear. THEN, she changed the subject and said, “I wish I had moved to Los Angeles sooner.” To which I replied, “oh because you’re happy you’re getting your career started?” A little background: We met in Hawaii where she remained and struggled financially for years because there are no decent paying jobs for alcoholics who prefer to party and call in sick (yes, she’s an in denial alcoholic but more on that later). When she moved here a year ago, I convinced my old employer to hire her despite the fact that she was vastly under-qualified. She still works there today and is keeping it together (i.e. not getting fired and actually shining in her roll there, by her accounts at least). So of course I logically thought she was talking about how much better and more stable her life is NOW. But nope she was talking about me.

“Things are just so different with you now,” she said in a dismissive, disgusted voice, as if the mere fact that I had (hopefully have) a baby growing inside me makes me some sort of alien creature. Like her feelings about marriage and children, this topic is a dead horse by now. I get that’s she bummed I am no longer her partner in partying crime (after MAJOR drama I finally told her I would no longer drink with her because I wasn’t comfortable with the dark place she took her drinking too). I get that she’s bummed that I’m married now and less available. We’ve been through all this again and again and again. Between that and the family slamming I said, “You’re a shitty friend” and hung up on her. I proceeded to text that things have been “different” long before she moved to Los Angeles and this point we either grow from here or I don’t know what else to say. She did not reply. Then yesterday, over a week later, she texted me like nothing happened. Her typical avoidant self had no idea why I hadn’t updated her on my ultrasound or that I was even mad at her. Right.

Reading over this, I realize I haven’t done a good job of accurately portraying the long history of pain and inconvenience I’ve incurred in this friendship. This person has put me through hell. Thrown up all over my house. Gotten me kicked out of places. Lost an expensive camera of mine during a drinking binge. Had a tantrum at my wedding that both embarrassed and insulted me, while also being completely absent from most of my pre-wedding activities that week. I could go on and on and on. And in describing this I realize it’s to the point of  Shame On Me. If I continue to allow this person to manipulate me, to shit on me, to take advantage of my kindness I’m just as much a part of the problem. As my fortune in Harper’s Bizarre said this month: “You teach people how to treat you.” I’ve ALLOWED this shitty-ness to go on for far to long. And I think I’m done. I’ve fought so hard to keep this friendship alive, between hour-long pep talks about her drinking, to trying again and again to explain how she’d hurt my feelings the week of the wedding, to this without any change what so ever. I’m not the only one either, the entire circle sees it and has begun the dancing of backing away. I guess I’m the last sucker, but no more.

If you’re still reading you brave soul then you’re in for a treat with Evil #2. Ready? Here goes…

Another friend, who still lives in Hawaii, said this to me when we were chatting about my pregnancy: “Well you know, mixed babies are healthier than non-mixed babies.” Btw, she is half Asian and her husband is Caucasian. I was caught off guard so I didn’t interject just yet, which gave her time to twist the knife. The final thrust came in the form of the most ridiculous thing anyone has EVER SAID TO ME: “Well why do you think you and Merp have had a hard time trying to conceive. It’s because you are both Caucasian.”

My jaw drops to the floor even writing that. Can you f’ing believe the nerve!?

I proceeded to explain that I think her assumption is wildly incorrect, that it’s actually immunity, NOT RACE, that makes us ideal partners for one another. And that I have a serious disease that makes my body less receptive to conception. I also said that if that were the case than why do I see just as many same race couples in my RE’s office as I do mixed race ones? She didn’t have an answer for that, but then actually tried to argue with me saying she saw something in National Geographic that confirmed that she is indeed superior to me because she is mixed and that of course her daughter is also superior to my future children because she is also mixed (she didn’t actually say those last two things, but I swear that’s what she was implying).

Bad, right? Like WHO IS THIS PERSON. And what is wrong with ME that I am friends with someone who says stuff like this. Now in her defense she’s not always the sharpest tool in the shed and sometimes clings to ideas that perpetuate her own self-worth regardless of how ridiculous they are. I wouldn’t be surprised if she caught half of the NG article and came to this assumption without ever making it to the conclusion.  I’ve talked to her once since then and haven’t said anything, but I think I’m going to. Or is it pointless? And do I really care? It’s not my job to teach grown women about what is and isn’t appropriate to say to a person who has struggled with infertility.

So here I am, feeling less pregnant than I did yesterday, and realizing that there are three fools in this crazy friendship saga. The two mentioned above for being ass monkeys #1 and #2 and me, #3, for allowing it to go on as long as it has.

Once I love you, it’s hard for me to walk away. I had that problem when dating too – I stayed in many relationships that were unhealthy until I finally resolved to break the cycle. Whether it’s because I struggled with my own self worth (child abuse will do that) or because I’m loyal to a fault or a combination of the two, I wonder if I’m seeing things clearly. Do I cut the cord with #1? Confront #2? Or get my head examined?

Pin It on Pinterest