I suppose when you’re out of options, you’re much more willing to leave your comfort zone. That’s how I found myself laying on the acupuncture table for the fifth time this summer. That’s right – I have an acupuncturist. And I really don’t know what’s become of me.
Infertility has thrown me for a loop. I haven’t written about it for lack of news, but because it’s just sad and in my haze of self-pity I couldn’t muster the strength to be witty. I wish I could be stoic in my grief, but I am not, and I hoot and a holler any chance I get. This does not make me a fun house, dinner, or anything mate. Matt and I did IUI (inter-uterine insemination, or commonly known as artificial insemination) for the past two months (to no avail as of yet). We will try again (and then move to IVF) but my last "I'm so sorry; you aren't pregnant" call was a surprise: not because of the news, but because sitting at my desk at work I put down the phone and just…cried. And I can’t fully articulate that feeling of emptiness, and I was expecting it to be negative at this point, but with all this effort – the meds, the monitoring, hell, even the acupuncture—I suppose I was holding out more hope than I realized.
So sluggish and sad (and, come on, curious) I made another appointment with the acupuncturist.
I am completely, utterly, out of my element in the acupuncturist’s office. I feel awkward and think odd hippie-ish thoughts like, "You should really eat wheat germ" even though I don't know what wheat germ is, or "Why don't you ever wear your Birkenstocks?". I know nothing about Hinduism or Buddhism except that Buddha statues are very “in” right now and Richard Gere is friends with the Dali Llama. I have no spirituality in my life, but I want to believe so badly in all of this, so I just nod vigorously when my acupuncturist, one of those gorgeous women in wispy linen and no make-up, says I have major blockage to my heart for my energy isn’t in line. Who knew?
So this is what I have been doing when I haven't been writing: and the truth is, most of the time I'm doing nothing, lazing at home watching Netflix. But I find I need that time more and more - that time of nothingness after work and before bed - to get my head in the game for the next round to face tomorrow. And the day after that. Because I'm not quitting anytime soon.