5.24.2012

DAY THREE


i sat on the couch in my pajamas, my hands jammed nervously between my knees, my feet jittering. take it now? take it later. take it now? take it later. eyeing the kitchen i took a deep breath.i felt like i wanted to cry.

i texted my mom, but it was 5:30AM her time and i knew she wouldn't be up. next i texted brandon at work, though he was probably still on the subway heading down, and anyway, this isn't his forte. brandon is wonderfully supportive but wants to know as much about the back end of making a baby as anybody else, which is to say, not much thank you, and please try to keep it romantic. it should be romantic for somebody! (sadly, with fertility pills, it is really romantic for nobody.)

i put down the phone and fought the tears. i felt lonely and anxious. i don't want to do this alone, i thought miserably to myself, though i knew that i had to. that's the point. this is mine. no one else can do this part for me. 

with that, i stood up.

i went into the kitchen, and took a butter knife to the little white pill. half for today, half for tomorrow, and three more days after that. i pressed my finger into the dusting of white powder left on the kitchen counter and put it on my tongue. one more deep breath and down the hatch it all went. then, alert for dizzy spells and hot flashes and sneak attacks of nausea, i got huck ready for the day. an hour or so later, feeling shaky but capable, we went out for groceries. dizzy spells and heat flashes be damned.

the weather report for the day said sunny with a high of 72, but when we stepped outside the sun was nowhere to be found. instead the sky was low and gray. clouds swirled around my feet. there were puddles on the ground and droplets of sky clinging to the buildings, drooping heavily from the railings. instantly my hair went rogue. the air all around us seemed dense and quiet. the streets were practically deserted. i could hear my thoughts louder than my footsteps as i pushed the stroller up the hill and over toward 72nd street. the air seemed cold but warm at the same time, and everything moved in slow motion. moving slowly, we made our way uptown, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

around 70th street it fell, trickling at first but soon in heavy, angry sheets. i knew it was coming but still it caught me off guard. it seemed to catch the earth itself by surprise. the rain felt immense. it fell with purpose and consumed every single thing in its path. the hair on my arms stood at attention as the rains fell harder and we raced toward the closest awning we could find for cover, skipping through puddles as big as oceans, while the air flooded around us. three other strollers and four other pedestrians soon crowded in with us, all of us covered in rain and shock, shaking out pointless umbrellas and laughing and watching the sky in awe as it streaked swiftly to the ground. i felt lightheaded, my body completely swimming in hormones, my clothes completely soaked. i calculated the distance to the grocery store and weighed the risk of getting further drenched. i imagined all the awnings we could duck under along the way.

we were crossing the intersection at 71st street when the city suddenly blinked away in a blinding flash of white light. next came the rumble, seemingly from the ground itself. it built in intensity until it was so loud i could feel it exploding through my chest. it was the sound of release. it thought it sounded familiar. it sounded like the whole earth was sobbing.

and then i realized, i didn't feel alone anymore.

85 comments :

  1. This was the first of your "essays" I've read and I am completely blown away! I want to keep reading, to curl up with your story on the couch and find out more. You are so very talented.

    ReplyDelete
  2. This was the first of your "essays" I've read and I am completely blown away! I want to keep reading, to curl up with your story on the couch and find out more. You are so very talented.

    ReplyDelete
  3. the feelings you have described here are so intense, so real, so terrifying. i am sorry you are going through this, but be hopeful. life has a wonderfully messy way of always seeming to work out for the best. crossing my fingers for you, mama. by the way, i am loving your instagrams as of late.

    xo, amanda

    http://mamawatters.blogspot.com

    ReplyDelete
  4. NO matter what! even if we haven't been through it, you aren't alone. we love you. Heavenly father loves you. and we, all of us, really do love you. we're here for you and rooting for you (hopefully you're rooting for us too) and there is baby dust flying around the room.

    I love you lady. you're not alone.

    ReplyDelete
  5. This was so beautiful. It brought tears to my eyes...I loved it so much. You are so wonderful. Thank you for sharing with us your story. You should listen to "Be Still" by the Fray...it is so comforting.

    ReplyDelete
  6. That is a really amazing essay. I try not to remember the reactions to the fertility meds but that captured it well. Best of luck, I'm glad you no longer feel alone.

    ReplyDelete
  7. this was so beautifully written, thank you for sharing.

    you are definitely not alone lady. sending positive vibes your way.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Very well written. I love your writing and you are not alone.

    ReplyDelete
  9. thinking of you natalie, and sending a few prayers your way.

    ReplyDelete
  10. So beautifully written. Thinking of you.

    ReplyDelete
  11. I've been reading your blog for years (it was the first I ever followed!) and I've missed this kind of writing from you. These are the posts that inspire me. I hope you're not feeling so alone.

    ReplyDelete
  12. So lovely. Downpours like that are so special in the city, surreal and visceral all at the same time. You're a brave and beautiful mama.

    ReplyDelete
  13. So beautiful. I love your essays. Thank you for being real. Sending lots of positive jujus your way and prayers.

    Xoxo

    ReplyDelete
  14. Beautifully written, and like others said, you are never alone.

    ReplyDelete
  15. ::thud::

    You've KILLED ME DEAD with this gorgeous, poignant essay. Just...ugh.

    So beautifully written, Nat. God willing it all works out in your favour and you're blessed with another adorable munchkin. Be brave and courageous as you always are, but don't feel bad if you fall apart once in a while...we all need that release.

    ::hugs::

    ReplyDelete
  16. You have such an incredible way with words. I always find myself inspired after I've read even the simplest post on your blog. I can't imagine the adventures you would take my mind upon if you were to write a novel... Please do so!!

    ReplyDelete
  17. its insane how talented you are!! <3

    ReplyDelete
  18. after all the help you've given so many of us, you'll never be alone again, natalie.

    ReplyDelete
  19. lovely. sorry so sad, but lovely.

    ReplyDelete
  20. Your hair went rogue. The rain fell with purpose.

    I love it when an entire paragraph is captured with a few simple words like that.

    And as for being alone... it popped into my head to wonder why you'd overlooked calling me at 5:30am, until I remembered that we haven't actually met each other--you just make us all care & feel close to you through your writing.

    But the closeness isn't artificial, even if it is sort of one-sided.

    ReplyDelete
  21. Oh day three. How I loathe day three. I mean, how are we expected to be so strong and take a pill that's really so hard to take just a few days after that lovely reminder that we're definately not pregnant. again.

    I wish you the best of luck! You can do this. You're strong. I hope that doesn't sound cheesey, I just know that in the midst of infertility treatments I always hoped someone would text me that out of blue or just ring my doorbell and tell me I'm strong and that I could do it.

    ReplyDelete
  22. Beautiful. Even having experienced infertility and fertility drugs, this makes me feel something new. Thank you for sharing.

    ReplyDelete
  23. I had one of those days today too. I felt lonely and low and the sky was such a spastic confusing disappointment. I accomplished nothing today. Day 12, no mans land, too early for anything productive to be done. It's maddening. Day 30, be it fruitful or fallow, can't come soon enough.

    Oddly enough these last few days I've been refreshing your blog, thinking please Natalie, I need this. It's nice to know that even though we aren't real-life friends, I'm not the only one on the rainy confused east coast lost in this endless dialogue with god, nature and my own body. Thanks for sharing, I needed it.

    ReplyDelete
  24. So pretty Nat. My prayers and thoughts go your way today.

    ReplyDelete
  25. This was breathtaking, you are truly talented and never alone!

    ReplyDelete
  26. This is beautiful. And I am excited for you! This is so exciting!!!

    ReplyDelete
  27. what a beautiful post. Sending you happy thoughts!

    val
    The Daily Distraction

    ReplyDelete
  28. Beautiful, heartbreaking and uplifting all at once. Good thoughts are in the air for you from all whom you have touched with your words.

    ReplyDelete
  29. Ugh. Ugh that you are going through all of this again. I so hoped you wouldn't have to. Beautiful writing in this post even though it feels so tragic. I hope the meds work and that is all you need! I hated those dang things.

    ReplyDelete
  30. Beautiful and sorrowful at once. The best kind of posts: deep ones. Thank you for being brave and sharing these posts with us. So that people like you don't feel alone too. Prayers!

    ReplyDelete
  31. What a wonderful essay! I love your honesty and strength. I love how you are not afraid to not be perfect. I love how brave you are and how much love you carry in your heart. I am praying for you.

    ReplyDelete
  32. Thank you so much for sharing, I'm sure you are such a strength to so many women and one day I know you will be a huge strength and example to me as I try and become a mom.

    ReplyDelete
  33. You are so talented. I love to read your writing

    ReplyDelete
  34. Beautiful! You're never alone, remember that. x

    ReplyDelete
  35. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  36. And this? This would be why I love your blog.

    ReplyDelete
  37. I know how you feel. Keeping a prayer for you...and for me.

    ReplyDelete
  38. "Be of good courage, And He shall strengthen your heart, all you who hope in the LORD."

    ReplyDelete
  39. I pray the peace that doesn't make sense would overwhelm you this day.

    ReplyDelete
  40. your writing is so beautiful. and you are not alone.

    ReplyDelete
  41. This really hits home today. Thank you for sharing.

    You are definitely not alone.

    ReplyDelete
  42. Hormonal mother nature, gotta lover her efforts. My thoughts and prayers are with you sweet mommy. I don't really know you, but I hope all goes well.

    ReplyDelete
  43. You are not alone ! I read you from Portugal ! In the end everything is gonna be alright !

    xx

    Joana

    http://remodelista-lx.blogspot.co.uk

    https://www.facebook.com/RemodelistaLx

    ReplyDelete
  44. This is beautiful and raw! Best of luck with this next stage of life.

    ReplyDelete
  45. You made me feel less alone. Thank you so much.

    ReplyDelete
  46. This gave me goosebumps. Thank you for being so genuine, and sharing.

    ReplyDelete
  47. I am sorry about your bad day :(.

    http://gandacummings.blogspot.com

    ReplyDelete
  48. Wow. I smelled the rain. I felt the thunder. This was beautiful. And best of luck.

    ReplyDelete
  49. Such a wonderfully written explanation of what you are feeling right now. We will be here to celebrate with you when it's a sunny day full of good news. :)

    http://ashtonanddiscourse.blogspot.com

    ReplyDelete
  50. Beautiful natalie. Praying for you.

    ReplyDelete
  51. Really beautiful, Natalie.

    ReplyDelete
  52. So wonderfully written. Beautiful...

    ReplyDelete
  53. Beautiful words.

    And you are not alone.

    ReplyDelete
  54. I've never commented on here before, but I'm an avid reader. I've been struggling with unexplained infertility for some time now myself. We just did IUI this month and I found out yesterday that it didn't take. :( I've been so heartbroken. I know exactly what you mean about feeling lonely. It is such a roller coaster ride of emotions every single day, and it's difficult to talk about with your friends/family members who have can get pregnant just walking through the kitchen! Your posts really help me to cope with it all. Plus, us infertile myrtles got to stick together, right??

    ReplyDelete
  55. I'm stunned by how beautiful, yet heartbreaking this is. Sending an extra little prayer your way.

    preethi
    lace, etc.

    ReplyDelete
  56. I just love reading these essays you right.
    So moving and wonderful.
    I have 100% felt the exact same way.
    Fertility is a lonely battle.

    Kirsten

    ReplyDelete
  57. that could be an excerpt from a novel. beautiful!

    i think everything will be just perfect.

    ReplyDelete
  58. I came across your blog not too long ago and your essays are my favorites on here. I feel like this one is the best I've read yet. So beautifully done.

    ReplyDelete
  59. Heartfelt, sweet girl. Thank you for sharing this journey!

    Ps: sweet girl, please share the source of that insanely awesome shirt, please!

    ReplyDelete
  60. Oh my goodness Natalie this was beautiful. One of the best. There was a thunderstorm today earlier where I live and the sun is now shining. I wonder if it means something. Ps good luck and I can totally relate with odd medication side effects

    ReplyDelete
  61. Natalie, praying for you and me that we both get a baby soon.
    You're not alone.

    ReplyDelete
  62. You're not alone. I am sending you massive hugs, cases of diet pepsi, boxes of Trader Joe's cookies, and lots of prayers for a safe and easy journey for you and your family.

    ReplyDelete
  63. this is absolutely beautiful! you are such a compelling writer. and so many people can relate to this (with fertility or anything else).
    thank you.
    xo TJ

    ReplyDelete
  64. So, so many prayers coming your way!!!

    ReplyDelete
  65. Nat I have been there, and back again. You are not alone, but I definitely know the feeling. This post was spot on. Hang in there - as you know, it is all worth it in the end.

    ReplyDelete
  66. Your writing is so beautiful and moving. Sometimes, God's time line just doesn't line up with ours.(It sucks sometimes too.) But it will happen for you; hang in there.

    ReplyDelete
  67. What a beautiful post. You are never alone, never!

    ReplyDelete
  68. this made me cry. even though my husband is laying right next to me, and my babes are asleep in their beds, i also feel alone. it was just a bad day. but damn, what a writer you are.

    ReplyDelete
  69. Sending prayers and love your way, Natalie. May Heavenly Father bless and keep you and your little family, and guide many more little souls your way! <3

    ReplyDelete
  70. You are not alone, you have lots of friends here with you. Yes we feel like friends even if we have never met. Also, I love the way you write. I especially loved the description of the weather. You have so much voice and style in your writing.

    ReplyDelete
  71. oh Nat look at all the people who love you even from afar. you're never alone, you are such a lovely person and because of that you are never alone.


    www.accidentallybeautiful.com

    ReplyDelete
  72. i was reading the ensign yesterday and thought of you because there's an article in there about dealing with infirtility (june 2012 issue). it's worth looking at :)

    ReplyDelete
  73. You are not alone, sometimes we need a little rain in our life to make the rainbow when the sun finally shines.

    ReplyDelete
  74. Sweet you. Fertility meds and the entire gig that goes along with it is just plain exhausting. Sadly I know. 12 pregnancies, 4 take home babies.

    Hang in there. Through all the wackiness, I did indeed end up with 4 beautiful babies. And so will you ( only maybe 2, or 3, or 6).

    P. S. -- Can i get superficial And BEG YOU for the shopping information on your gorgeous blouse? Please?

    ReplyDelete
  75. Natalie... I grew up in Seattle where the rain always accompanied my tears for joy, tears of sadness, and tears from disappointment. Nature has a way of supporting our human nature and nothing was more natural to me than wanting a little one. Keeping u in our prayers.
    Alix

    ReplyDelete
  76. It is exhausting emotionally and physically. I did get twins out of it though ;)
    Hugs to you!!

    ReplyDelete
  77. I feel like I've said the words "don't let me do this alone" so many times. And we are so lucky we aren't alone, aren't we?

    ReplyDelete

Comments are moderated because mama ain't no fool.