The Field of Dreams. Great movie, right? Right! So many memorable quotes!
And now of course, The Field of Dreams as adapted by me…
So far that hasn’t been the case.
Instead I have found that if you push it-you will be taunted by surrounding drunkards and have the aftermath send you spiraling through the 18 layers in hell (not to be confused, of course, with the seven levels of the Candy Cane forest that Buddy the Elf went through).
So let me explain…a month ago we happened to be out in public (gasp!), with many of our friends (double gasp!!). I know it’s shocking to believe, but I was! And at a very large Medieval Times Winter Carnival Parade with a couple bunches of our friends scattered about the length of the parade. We were also with friends who have a beautiful 2 year old girl and her stroller in tow, which was conveniently housing our beverages while she was being held by her dad for better parade viewing.
To say it was jammed and busy along the very tight side walks with insane snow banks everywhere would be an understatement, so moving from point A to point B became tricky due to waiting for an opening in the crowd big enough so that we could pass through. We had become separated from my husband and a group of his friends that had some small kids with them and a better view of the upcoming horses. So without any other thought in my mind other than to help get everyone rallied, while the parents of this beautiful girl were occupied with her, I opted to grab a hold of the empty
stroller cooler and essentially break a trail for all of us.
As I charged ahead using the stroller to clear a path in the crowd-a very large, very drunk man dressed as a Knight hollered as I passed him ” Hey lady, your missing your baby!!” Somehow even intoxicated, without missing a beat-my mouth opened and “No shit asshole, and you have no idea how much it fucking sucks” shot out. I think I made it maybe 5 more feet before yet another drunkard, this time dressed in hunting attire (not even going with the theme you jerk off) proceeds to ask me “Hey what’s the hurray? You’re baby is gone!” “Actually not just one baby, but two babies are gone and the hurray is I’m not getting any younger you dickwad, now get out of my way!”
And of course as I pull up with the stroller on the verge of rage tears in front of my husbands friend who just had baby number 3 (healthy girl, with a brain and everything) and who knew #1 how much I want to be a mom, #2 how much my husband wants to be a dad, #3 about our loss last January #4 about our struggles with infertility and IVF and #5 about our miscarriage in December-immediately looks at the empty stroller and then at me with utter confusion and asks “so what’s with the stroller?”
So happy that my jester mask covering my face hid my tears as they slid down my cheeks I replied “It’s the stroller of dreams, I am hoping if I push it while being taunted by everyone around me, a healthy baby will come-but this time to ME.” She looked horrified, which of course was exactly what I was going for (again a sign that I’m just not right) and when my husband leaned over and asked what was going on, I turned to him and responded…
“It’s ok honey, I was just talking to the cornfield ah, errr I mean stroller.”
In the field of dreams they said that if you believe the impossible, the incredible can come true.
How right they were. At this point, that is exactly how the idea of having just one healthy baby in my arms feels-absolutely impossible.
This past week has been tough. And now I feel like a broken record. I can’t remember when a week wasn’t tough over the past 17 months, but lately they just seem to get worse. I am a type A very motivated person. In every single aspect of my life. Independent, Type A, outside the box thinker, quick problem solver and planner extraordinaire. There has NEVER been a task in my life that I have set my mind to conquer that I wasn’t able to do so.
Because of this I have learned that when you fail, you try something different and work harder-and to simply not quit until you’ve achieved your goal. Failing along the way only meant you didn’t research enough, you weren’t aggressive enough, you didn’t try hard enough-but most important that you weren’t able to stop. I have been rewarded by this behavior through out my life, it has made me successful in any endeavor of my choosing. I suspect, it is this wiring that is behind ever successful person in life.
Due to the success I have had with this work pattern, it is ingrained into the very fiber of my being. I now view becoming a mom to a healthy baby as my ultimate goal and planning to achieve this goal is all I have done for the last 25 months of my life. Now granted I have been doing so all while managing my normal life as well as my full-time career and my commute to and from work. Because it’s not like you can quit your job, and devote all of your energy to a goal of this nature…because here it is ladies and gentlemen…here is my horrid fear…
That if I give this ultimate goal my full attention and give up everything else in my life, what if at the end it is not in the cards for me to reach my goal??
And then I can’t help but wonder, is that truly the bottom of the pit? Is that as far down as I can possibly go?
And if so, can I recover from that depth?
I envision sitting down there in the bottom of that pit as a 40 something year old who has worked so hard for almost a decade to achieve an impossible goal and not only did I fail but I am a failure with nothing else left in my life.
I shudder to think. But would be lying if I said this thought doesn’t consume me. The thought that I am doing this half assed and that’s the reason I keep failing. But with a self-preservation mechanism built in-I can’t let go of everything in my life “just in case” because I know that the answer to the question of recovering from a depth that low is not a “yes”.
I shudder to think about that too.
So now I am here to say I am fucking exhausted. I can feel the rope in which I am hanging onto for dear life is giving way. It is completely unfair, BUT BEYOND MY CONTROL, to be thrown into a war that no matter how hard I fight, research, sacrifice and plan-I can’t be victorious. Victory can not be guaranteed no matter what. I repeat, because this is seriously the hardest thing I have ever had to wrap my mind around…
THERE IS NOTHING I CAN DO (OR ANYONE ELSE ON MY BEHALF) THAT CAN GUARANTEE THAT I WILL EVER GET PREGNANT AND CARRY TO TERM A LIVE, HEALTHY, TAKE HOME BABY.
This is crushing me. I don’t have the tools for this battle. But I also don’t have the ability to just let go and have faith that by doing nothing it will all work out in the end.
All along I have been focused on each cycle-my battle was only 28 days in length-and at the end I would win. Crushing defeats take a toll on one’s soul after awhile though. After a year long loss of battles, my epiphany is this-I’m going about this all wrong.
Since I can’t give up everything in my life to focus solely on becoming a mom, I need to prepare for a long drawn out war and anticipate that each cycle’s battle will be a loss. That will be the tricky part-how does one prepare for endless defeats in a war that could span another 5 years?
That’s why I said it’s an epiphany of sorts. It isn’t a complete epiphany exactly, otherwise I would be able to answer that question, so it’s more like a quasi epiphany. Or an epiphany under construction? I guess I’ll go back under my bed and think on this some more.
p.s. I hate the nursing staff AND my doctor. I want to punch them all on their ovaries.