So the infertility saga lives on, blah blah, but we are taking this month off of treatment and I am finally free. No one will be poking my arm with a needle for a whole month and hallelujah for that. Although, as a perky little aside, you’ll be glad to hear this treatment debacle has gotten me over my needle phobia. I once thought I had overcome my needle phobia and decided not to tell the phlebotomist that I needed to lay down so I sat up like a big girl in the stool chair. Then I proceeded to throw up and then passed out and fell off the chair onto the tile floor of death and germs, and then I was carried by a large male nurse to the bed where I would lay down like the child that I am.
That was the Brooke of last year though, this years Brooke ran to her car in the middle of a concert so her husband could administer an IVF shot with no sweat. We videoed it and ran out of the parking structure where Trever yelled to the valet guys that I was diabetic so they wouldn’t think we were shooting up, but I don’t really think they believed us. Typically the rule at this concert venue is you can’t re-enter, but lucky for us the bouncer who was probably 400 lbs. with a name placard stating that his name was, “The Big Worm” helped us out. He was a tiny bit scary at first as we tried with doe eyes to explain that I needed to run to my car for a medical reason. He stared at us blankly, so assuming he needed more information we just blurted out that we were doing IVF and he got a big smile and raised his hands and yelled, “aww yayyyy! Oh I hope this works!” Thanks The Big Worm, me too…me too.
But, I digress. In my month of freedom I have been, and will be, doing all the things to celebrate the fabulous parts of my life that are fabulous because I am not pregnant.
Here are the things:
First Trever and I will be heading to Greece and Italy in a couple of weeks and it takes all my self-control to keep me from packing right now. Also I would like to buy a new sun hat but it’s a tragedy that they don’t travel well. I use tragedy loosely.
You know I’ll be drinking that wine in Italy. You know it!
Second, we met some friends at a trailhead in Laguna Beach and hiked to the top with backpacks full of coconut water and sandwiches so we could picnic at the top with a view. Sometimes I downplay the difficulty of hikes to trick my friends into going with me. It worked! They only yelled at me a couple of times, and Trever made a big stink about defining terms so that we both understood what I was saying when I said descriptive words like - little, easy, short, a teeny tiny bit steep, etc. I know they all think it was worth it though, the view was lovely and it always feels better eating dinner when you’ve worked for it. I should have been a farmer, I always say it.
Third, a couple of weeks ago after we got some pretty bad fertility news, I texted some of our best friends and asked if they wanted to go to Vegas. They said, “(explicit word) yes!” They cancelled their plans and went to sin city with us so we could have fun and not be pregnant. We got upgraded to a suite, laid by the pool, went dancing, and did what Las Vegas has to offer.
I typically hate Vegas. It’s like this weird alternate universe where it’s suddenly normal for people to dress like absolute whores, and get drunk off their faces and no one thinks twice. I don’t like that it doesn’t have its own culture, just a weird rip off of other cultures that’s re-formulated into this eccentric theme park of debauchery. I don’t like the smell, or the heat, or the desert. Except of course, for this time! We went with friends who are always a good time and we laughed really hard, and chilled really hard, and I loved it. I loved Vegas, who would of thought! Note: Trever thinks I’m going through a mid-life crisis…there is a strong possibility he is right.
Lastly, we’ve been meeting friends for dinners at the beach after work. It’s marvelous because the masses of humanity have all gone and the beach is relatively empty when we arrive. It's my favorite thing, walking onto the beach at the start of the golden hour while the sand is still warm, arms loaded with pizza boxes and canteens full cold white wine. Last week after dinner I went boogie boarding with my friend Annette. The waves were huge so I almost died but the water is so warm I didn’t care so I stayed in until my lunges had that weird feeling of being stretched out. Then we played beach volleyball, we tried to get 20 volleys (is that the word?) and in fact succeeded at this goal just before sunset.
A week later after another dinner on the beach I went in the water with my friend Jessie even though we didn’t have swimsuits because who cares, being dry is so boring and predictable.
So this is all to say it's been a crazy couple of months - hard and good and confusing. But sometimes when life flashes you the proverbial middle finger you flash it right back and go night swimming.
Here are some of my picnic faves: