Friend of Infertile Single.
It’s got to be hard to be my friend. In addition to my sarcasm, my self-deprecating love/hate relationship with my body, my juvenile tendencies to laugh when you trip, and the fact that I suck at returning calls/letters/e-mails – I am trying to get pregnant.
How weird. How bizarre.
I am enmeshed into a world that is so Lifetime Movie. I talk about my Vagina all the time. I wear the same pair of jeans every time you see me (as they are the only ones that fit & you know this as I keep telling you this & then jiggling my inner-tube of lard at you while singing ‘Fat Bottom Girls’). I get moody as a motherfucker. (which the spell check would like me to change to “Moody as a motorbike.”) I get sad. I don’t ask what is going on in your life because, really, what could be more exciting than my fertility – or lack of it?
How annoying I must be. How tiresome. How utterly run on sentence.
And yet you keep calling, keep writing, keep letting me know that you are available to me. You genuinely seem interested when I tell you about luteal phases. You react perfectly when I show you how I have to jab myself with needles.
Being a FOIS must be awful. It must be so hard to wrap your mind around everything that I am putting myself through. But you are still here.
You wouldn’t believe the number of FOIS that are in my life. Men and women that deal with my shit and still seem to want to know me.
Sure I have some great friends that have excused themselves for a while. “Pardon me, I’m just going to wait until you get pregnant before I call you back.” I can actually understand that more than I can understand the friends that have decided to stick around for the long haul.
But I tell you, these FOIS that are around…man, there is nobody finer. Nobody more amazing and lovely.
I hope you know how much I love you and adore you. You know that Bette Midler song? Oh come on, of course you do. There is a line in the chorus of that song that I am bursting to sing to you:
It might have appeared to go unnoticed,
but I’ve got it all here in my heart.
I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it,
I would be nothing with out you.
To all of my FOIS and to those of you in the blogosphere (Fois-blogs?): thank you, thank God for you.
{ 7 comments… read them below or add one }
no Cali, thank YOU for sharing all that stuff, you ROCK!
HUGS to you.. you are woman —Roar! :0)
now smile we love you!!!!
What’s not to love, crazy girl??? You are amazing and you know it… clap your hands….
I like you. I admire you. I empathize with you. I am in awe of you. You’re funny. You’re beautiful. You’re kind. You’re smart. I think you are amazing. As a person, a daughter, a grand daughter, a blogger, a human being, a friend, a horse sitter, a photgrapher, and someday a fabulous mother to a child whose stars aligned in just the right way and gave him/her such an incredible mother. I will be your FOIS for as long as it takes, to become you FOAAM
Go figure it out yourself.
As one “IS” to another, you’re awesome and those who support us are awesome.
I love reading your blog, and your entries into our BG. It’s so great to know there are other fabulous women out there going through the same thing.
I love ya – thank God for YOU.
Love, Margie
I’d be your friend, you a little off just like me, and we’re in the same boat. I’m sure you’re friends love you! Besides of course there’s nothing more interesting that you getting pregnant.
Okay, I’m not single anymore (although it does take some getting used to…) and so I am not an ‘IS.’ But I am not ‘I’ either, and neither are you. Wait about twenty years until we hit menopause, and if we haven’t had kids then, then we can think it over.
So, you can think of yourself as an ‘IS,’ but I think of you as Calliope, who is not-yet-Mom, beloved friend.