I Fink U Freeky, and I Like You a Lot

Merry Monday, my fellow baby-pang broads!

Ahhh, what can one say about a weekend that started with an intended 5 minute 'who needs deoderant? I'm just running a quick errand' trip that resulted in my car breaking down and spending 3 hours at the mechanics in 100 degree heat, and ended with accidentally taking an ambien when I thought I was taking levothyroxine?

What can one predict about a week that begins with an hour and a half traffic jam on the way to the Obgyn's for a lab order, and in the hospital shuffle accidentally kicking an adorable, handicapped, elderly Korean woman?  (HARD).

Oh, Stork.  Sweet, sweet, accident prone Stork.

On a positive note, I talked to G-d and She and I figured out the one common thread between all infertile women.

Do I have a medical degree?  No.  Have I done any research except for just under two months of blogging? No.  But I figured it out.  I'll be expecting a check made out to "Stork and G-d" for millions from science, and the inevitable fame that will follow, any day now.

Ready for it?

We are all, every last frigging one of us (and by 'us' I can scientifically verify this at least means the women who blog about it) Fucking Weird.

(Now, now - before you get all offended let me assure you that coming from me, this is the highest of compliments.  I am Queen weird, forever searching for more weird.  Hang with me for a moment before you get your panties in a wad.)

So how did I come to this riveting, blow-the-roof-off conclusion, you ask?

A couple of weeks ago when Bubella was staying with me she had a moment where she felt bad for a hot second about being slightly odd.  (True story - if you're 'different', in High School you spent a significant portion if not the whole experience wishing you were 'normal', and your entire adulthood watching the naturally 'normal' live dull lives full of odd-desperation).

I've read a few (if you were one of them by all means give yourself a shout-out in the comment section - accidental ambien makes us forgetful) posts the last couple of months about how difficult it can be in adulthood to make some good lady friends.

Then this morning I went into the ObGyn's to pick up that lab order and when I finally got to the fucking parking garage started having bad vibes.  It occurred to me that I have Fertility PTSD - it's been a long while since I went to that office without bad news quickly following it.  (I'm like a Vietnam Vet that still hears choppers - only instead of choppers it's the sound of latex gloves being snapped on and the gentle woosh of a condom being rolled down a wand).

I kept repeating to myself "I am not the only one that feels this way" and that made me think of all of you lovelies.

We're all fucking weird. Cooky driven to cookier by life experience.

Our little corner of the blogosphere is the Island of Misfit Toys.  If the world were Bridesmaids, we are a tribe of Annies in a world of Helens.

If I've read, say, 100 infertility blogs in the last couple of months - I can only maybe maybe maybe think of coming across 1 or 2 blogs, in passing, that belong to beige, normal women.  This is an incredibly high percentage of wonderfully odd.

You know the type of woman I'm talking about when I say beige - we all know them in real life.

The woman who's never really had any shit happen in her life.  Her house is more than likely, quite literally, bedecked in beige.  You try to have a friendship with her, but it never goes beyond superficial.  When you talk to each other you over-annunciate your words, find yourself saying things like "cute" and "sweet" way too often; she oversells how busy, important and happy she is; and you wouldn't dream of talking about anything real with her because this would inevitably end up in you revealing your weird - which she wouldn't get, would probably find shameful, and would more than likely just end up bursting into flames.

Enter, internet infertiles.

Fuck me, EmHart has a thing with puppets and the color blue as do I.  Kristin is a member of the in-real-life seemingly very small deceased-parent club and feels slightly homeless as I do.  And lo - lo is sexually attracted to who?  Patrick Stewart?  WHAT?!

(And those of you itching to tell me that all women/people are multi-layered and complicated, NO.  FALSE.  If you are also itching to tell me that despite the fact that you are layered and only have the bare minimum of odd requirements you are 'average' - also false. But I appreciate your weirdo-denial/optimism!)

99% of the blogs I have come across are from delightfully weird women who have been through shit.

This may not be a club we can fully appreciate because we've always been members - but to feel good about it one only has to glance around at the weird-imitators of this world and the lengths they go to to fake membership.  (Lady Gaga for one - a true weirdo does not say "make me a dress of meat because it will shock people", a true weirdo says "Where should I keep my bacon... ahh yes, in a dress.  What do you mean that's weird?"  Genuine weird does not take effort).

I have yet to come across a woman who can say "my life was perfect - never had anything bad or interesting happen, and then I found myself infertile".

So yes, I've said it a thousand times and I'll say it again - being in the Infertility Club fucking sucks, no one wants to be here.  But the only ones in it are wonderfully weird warrior women (wwww's) who have already proven their ability to handle shit storms long before infertility struck.

Not that you had to have led an unhappy life, or that by 'weird' I mean that you only wear black and in private try to bite your own face - I just mean to say that on some level you are (and know) that you're 'different', you have something to say, and whether it's instantly apparent or takes a wee bit of getting to know you, others have also reached this conclusion.

So why, as I kicked an elderly Korean women, did I reach the conclusion that in the venn diagram of life the "Infertile" circle is completely encompassed by the "Stone Cold Pack of Weirdos" circle?

Because we're the people who have the ability to go through things and instead of falling apart, turn around and describe them in a way that will make the beigest of the beige get a sense of what living a full life is like.

We're the people with stories to tell.  We're the types that leave - offspring or no - a mark on this world.  We're the people whose art lasts.

And on that note -

What?! Inexplicable!

Sidenote:  I woke up today (Tuesday) and on my blog reader there seem to be a few blogs missing... Has this happened to anyone?!  I didn't get rid of any! Shit now I'm trying to figure out who's missing...