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“I’m trying to think of a way to write this story so you will let me tell it.”
When I say this to my wife, she is standing over a mirror, with a foot on either side. I’d add, “in a compromising position,” but that’s redundant. You can’t straddle a mirror in a prudish way. It certainly doesn’t help matters that she is applying vaseline.
Normally, laughing would not be my response. I’d be too busy congratulating myself on marrying this girl, however, this is not what it looks like. It’s rare you can use that expression and mean it.
There are a lot of drugs involved in In Vitro Fertilization; vitamin and mineral supplements, hormones, and drugs designed to enhance, suppress, or encourage things in her body. An alarm rings six times a day. Everytime it does, she has to inject a liquid into her stomach, or take a pill. Some of these pills she can swallow, and some she has to take inter-vaginally, she has to insert them. Why the hell the vagina needs to consume this medicine in such a direct fashion I don’t know. I’ve already established I’m no gynecologist.
Every eight hours she puts two pills up her, and that’s the only thing that goes up there for two months, if you get my drift, which you must, I’m not being subtle. An orgasm contracts all sorts of muscles, as some of you may have noticed, and that risks a pregnancy. All that equipment is dedicated to other projects at the moment. For more than three months it’s off limits. You can bet that isn’t on the brochure for In Vitro Fertilization.
So, we have some time on our hands, which leads to some restless nights. One evening my wife looks over at me laying in bed and says, “We should shave you from head to toe. Everything except eyebrows and hair.”
“Yah?”
“Sure. What do you think?”
“I think we’d have to be pretty bored on a Saturday night.”
Thankfully, it hasn’t come to that, but we had a good laugh, and it’s important to remember to do that. This process is hard. There is a lot of anxiety, heartache, and stress. If you can’t find some humor in it, you have to fill the space with other emotions, and that’s rarely better. This is why, when her alarm goes off, she announces, “Time for Twat Pills.”
There is so much going on that we had to make up a calender with the dosages and procedures, which change every couple of days. As each of the six alarms goes off and she injects, inserts, or ingests a medicine, we cross it off the calender.
I saw her swallowing her vitamin so from the kitchen I yell upstairs, “I’M CROSSING OFF VITAMINS.”
“OK. AND TWO O’CLOCK TWAT.”
“OH. YOU DID THOSE?”
“WHAT? TWAT?”
“YAH.”
“YAH, I DID THOSE.”
Maybe that sounds strange to you. In truth, it’s lost all meaning for us now. It’s just another noun. Seriously, have about a dozen of those conversations and see if the words “Twat Pills” doesn’t start to settle into the decor.
Which brings us back to the mirror and the vaseline. As I said, it’s not what it looks like. These pills she inserts, the Twat Pills, they slowly melt, and well, the vagina is not Tupperware, it leaks. So she’s having trouble staying dry, and in what could only be considered a tragic irony, she has diaper rash.
The most valuable aspect of a sense of humor is the ability to laugh at yourself. You end up taking a lot of unexpected roads in life, at least if you are doing it right, and it’s often scary and unpleasant, but if you squint your eyes right, it’s a little funny too. So my wife and I have a good laugh, and I tell her that I love her, and that it is a shame that she will never let me tell this story.
Good response to my request for more “favorite clicking”. We’ve got some movement on the Reader Favorite board. Nice job folks. Thanks.
We find out the results of this IVF round next week. We both feel a bit reserved about it. We are trying to avoid disappointment by attempting to not get excited in the first place, which works about as effectively as you might expect.
Michelle beats herself up for not being the personification of positivity. So she’s feeling bad, about feeling bad. This whole process is a real mind fuck. Fingers crossed.
I’m still working on the story about what an awesome soldier I was. I’m having trouble though, it keeps getting longer, and I don’t have an ending (that’s good), so that might be next week, or not.
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Every part of me is hopeful for you both. I am proud of you for sharing this experience with us. Just think of the stories you will tell your child/children. They will be lucky to have you and Michelle for parents and that they were so wanted and loved.
Happy Sticky Thoughts
[...] in « Spiders Twat Pills [...]
Ugh… mindfuck indeed. I can totally relate to Michelle’s feelings.
Good luck to you both!
I laughed out loud and clicked the favorite button. There is a reason you are going through this together, you are clearly made for one another. Best of luck! Love you both.
The more of your posts I read the more I want to meet your wife! She sounds like an amazing woman. Obviously you know this, but you can never hear it enough – You are very lucky.
I’m sending you all my positive energy!
Great post – I love your humour.