Funny Girls of Fertility

Giving Grace


“All the liars are calling me one, nobody’s heard from me for months, I’m doing better than I ever was.” – Taylor Swift but kind of the current story of my life…. I’m back, bitches

 I literally can only write when I am in an emotional whirlwind, and guess where I’m at.. inside a tsunami, that’s inside a tornado, that’s inside a hurricane.

 I started thinking about how easy it is to take stuff personally.  I am ONE SENSITIVE MOTHER F’er.  I think I wrote a blog back in the day about people saying insensitive things to those dealing with infertility.  I started thinking people say insensitive things in LIFE.

 As a sensitive person, I’m just going to put this out there, why should we care what the fuck other people have to say? Lately, it seems as everyone is offended by EVERYTHING.  For example, someone dealing with infertility and a random ass who knows nothing about it says something that hurts their feelings.  Why let that shit bother you?  Why let something that someone else hasn’t ever experienced bother you? 

Now that I’m probably ruffling some feathers, let me explain what I mean….   I’m sensitive, I take things personally.  It’s not a good look.  I think it’s okay to be sensitive or emotional, but it’s about how you control it and respond to it.  My responses are shit, so I’m writing this so you can be BETTER than me!

I recently got in a little altercation with my MCM because he didn’t choose the words that I wanted him to.  He’s a guy, he’s not as good with his words as I am, yet I expect him to be as verbally competent.   It’s not fair.  You can’t expect something just because that’s how YOU would handle it.

 I’m learning this more and more every day.  I’m a perfectionist.  My therapist (haven’t seen her in forever, Miss you Cheryl, Boop) said to me that I am a miserable robot.  I don’t make mistakes often.  I’m never late.  I apologize if I don’t respond to someones text within like 5 minutes.  I keep everyone as happy as I possibly can, even if it means making myself miserable.  Since I function that way, I EXPECT everyone around me to function just like I would.  I’m busy as shit.  I am in a full time NP program, rotating between two clinical locations, I’m a mom of two active children, and I work.

I was actually submitting my endorsement letters for the honor society at UT, and I mentioned to my Dad that I got an invitation letter to join, and he said he was proud of me and that I make it all look so easy.  I make it look easy because I want everyone to feel comfortable and feel like they are my priority.  Again, since this is how I function I expect everyone else around me to handle as much shit as I do, as well as I appear to handle it.  ***Side note on all this, my close friends have seen my BP go up to 150/90 and the million mini breakdowns I have weekly.  So although some see me smooth sailing, a select few see that I actually do struggle.

 WHY do I ALWAYS ramble?! I haven’t written anything in forever so take it easy on me.  I’m really writing this to say that no one is you, no one handles things exactly like you.  Some people might not think that they are saying something that will hurt your feelings, someone might not think what they did would illicit such a reaction, but from your life experience it triggers something in you that they couldn’t even begin to understand.

I’m saying it’s okay to be sensitive, but I’m also saying it’s okay to take it easy on people because generally they probably don’t mean to be assholes.  No two people react the same.  Some of my friends I can call twats, and some of them I can call twats.. shit I call them all twats.  Bad example… I once called a girl a twat on Instagram and she sent me a cease and desist letter so not all people can be called twats. Is that my problem because I use twat often?  Or is that her problem?  Who really knows.  

 Your perception of how something is may not be the way the offender intended it to be.  So let’s all hold hands and sing Kumbaya.  I think we need to show people a little more grace.