Sketching it Out

I think I was right. Those pills were both magical and damning. Already this month I have been consistently nice. I have been sweet and sincere with the husband. That's a big deal for me. I'm also finding the line between who I am during any normal period of time and who I am when the pills f*** with me. I love them; I hate them, it's an age old story. I also realize that if we push much farther into treatments, the hormone swing will get far worse. But, you see, I am not focusing on that. I am trying to fall in love with this month where I don't count cycle days, don't force sex on the husband, and don't begrudge others their glowing pregnancies and beautiful babies. As I struggle to overcome another disappointment, I feel myself getting stronger. At least temporarily and in the what-does-not-kill-us-only-makes-us-stronger type way. So, am I putting myself at risk?

Next Tuesday, while I am supposed to be in comic book class, I will be laughing my butt off with an old dear friend. So I owe a professor an eight page paper. Not a problem, I write papers in my dreams . . . except he said I could be creative instead. That is a challenge. I want to write a graphic novel about loss/infertility/control issues/trying too damn hard/etc. AM offered to do the illustrations, or as they call it in the business, artwork. I will probably only turn in four or five pages and I need a focus. What do I narrow it down too? Infertility in general? My journey? Loss? I'm tempted to go the loss route because it has a beginning, middle, and unfortunately, an end. But, perhaps I don't want to stew in that right now? There is a funny side to infertility, but it's been done and I don't buy into that at all (i.e. if you hear me make an infertile/barren joke, I AM putting myself DOWN and am either completely uncomfortable in the situation or with the topic - get me out of there). The point is that, unless you have been on the infertility journey or inadvertently hopped aboard the loss boat, you don't know. You won't know and I don't want you to know, but I want you to be able to deal with it (and me and others) kindly and empathetically. I want you to be aware. So awareness is the key. I think I can do this and stay sane. Mostly. It might be something I'm proud of, who knows?