XXX


Calm down.  It’s not what you think.  This is not a ‘triple-x’ rated post or a review of that sketchy club every town has that advertises “live dancers.”  Which I never understood anyways, aren’t all dancers alive?  I mean dead dancers would just be creepy.  Except for the necrophiliacs.

Ok enough of that tangent.  This is the post about me turning thirty, in roman numerals thirty is ‘XXX’.  Triple-X as in, 3 strikes, struck out, dead, etc.  And I know all of you who are over 30 are like ‘freaking give me a break, you’re not dead.

Funny tangent.  So I got the idea for the title of this post from my sister.  She gave me a birthday card that said “Hope your Birthday is XXX!”  And she and I both took Latin in school, so she saw it and just thought it was a clever way to wish me a happy 30th birthday.  Then, after she bought it and got it home realized what it might also imply.  So I received her card in the mail and inside she wrote “I am not implying you should have that type of birthday, but if you do, please don’t share with me the details”

And now I will stop stalling, and tell you how hard this has been for me.

It’s not like I didn’t know I was going to turn thirty.  But one day I was in my twenties and  infertile, and now I’m in my thirties and infertile.  And I can’t describe how hard I have struggled with this, am still struggling. 

When Jacob and I went through a pre-marriage retreat we had this session in which we had to discuss how many children we thought we might want.  Jacob wanted four, I wanted five.  Yes, thank you, I do know we are naive morons.  I understand we could have one or two kids and be like ‘now way in hell are we having anymore, these two are enough!’  I wanted five because I was the fourth child and always wanted a little sibling. Yes, I know that makes no sense, because what if the fifth kid wanted a little sibling?  Well tough cookies for that kid.  But that’s not the point.  

The point is that infertility takes these options away from us, or limits the chance of success of our dreams for our family.  It is pretty much impossible right now for us to have 5 biological children. We just don’t have the reproductive time or resources.  Would we adopt?  In a heartbeat.  But that also requires resource we don’t have right now.

And it is sad, and depressing, and demoralizing, and overall I feel…

Angry. 

I’m friggen pissed.  I am angry.  This isn’t fair, this wasn’t supposed to be ‘our story’.  I’m thirty years old and I pretty much have no control over whether I EVER get to have a biological child.  And in the background of my anger is the clock.  A constant tick-tick-tick of time passing. 

And then there is the sense that I feel like my hope is dying.  I’ve been fairly optimistic, I feel, I’ve always felt that we would one day have a biological kid.  And I would still buy little things for our ‘future kid’ and put them away for that ‘some day’. 

But then the other night I came across this bassinette online that I have wanted for a long time.  It was an heirloom piece, teak wood, organic everything, $400.  But it was suddenly on sale for $75.  A CRAZY deal.  I have wanted this bassinette FOREVER.  But I looked at it that night and I while I was excited and wanted to buy it, this voice in my head suddenly said “you might never have a reason to use it.” 

And I couldn’t bring myself to buy it.  Because I had suddenly lost the 100% conviction that I will have a biological child.  And that was the saddest revelation to me.  That I have lost my hope, or that I have lost that unwavering conviction I once had.

And after, when I told Jacob how I felt, and bawled into his shirt with tears and snot (sexy right?) I felt better.  We still have time, we will have a family somehow, I do still have hope.

But damnit I’m still pissed.  I mean I know life is not fair, but damnit. 

Damnit, this is hard. 

And I count my blessings, and I go out with girlfriends for drinks and ‘cavetching’, and I run, and I try to keep going. 

But next year,  I am SO turning 29 again.  Screw 30.

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2 responses to “XXX

  1. Happy second 29th birthday. Turning older when you’re facing the IF monster is so much worse than just a regular birthday. Hugs to you.

  2. I love this post. I’m turning thirty in a couple of months and…honestly I’m dreading it. My thirtieth birthday was suppose to be celebrated with my husband and kiddo(s) who would help me blow out my candles. Instead, we will be attempting our second IVF cycle in September and I will find out if we are successful or not days from my thirtieth. My solution, let’s skip the 30’s and move into 40’s because then at least we will know what our live looks like. On the other hand, 40 sounds a little depressing…here is to 29!!

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