Friday, May 21, 2010

May 16th-22nd, more than just my good week.

There are good weeks and there are great weeks. Despite a slow start--damn you, chicken!!--this turned out to be a great week. The running needs a bit of attending to to get back on track (doesn't it always though?), but I had a great workout at the gym and, yes, I even managed to get there before work! No small feat for me, let me tell you. I am also back into the habit of going to bed at decent times. Not only going to bed, but actually falling asleep at decent times. It's caused a big change to my morning routine as I now naturally wake up about 10 minutes before my alarm goes off, cuddle with my cats until it does, and then spring out of bed to shower. No more snooze button :) Of course, that didn't totally hold true for the gym morning, but... I'm working on it.

I am officially signed up with Weight Watchers. I made myself stay late at work on Thursday because I knew if I sat down on my couch I'd get the 'oh, I'll go next week' feeling. I wasn't about to let that happen so instead I hung around (not working) distracting everyone else from their jobs. I have to say that I really liked the Thursday night group. Everyone was friendly and welcoming, during the meeting everyone participated (yes, even newbie me), and the general feel was of fun and friendship. You can't really ask much more from what is essentially a support group akin to AA or NA. (Although I am happy to report there was no dopey "Hi. My name is Mike, and I like food." "Hi, Mike.") The group leader does look a little like she wakes up every morning thinking it's 1975, but she was very friendly and very encouraging so I won't razz on her too much for her frizzy hair, over-sized glasses, bad orange tan and Burnt Sienna flared pant suit. Well, maybe just a little. I am looking forward to next week's meeting, so that's a good sign.

It's the Victoria Day Weekend in Canada (known as the May 2-4 back east although not so much over here) so it's a three day weekend for all us office workers with the annual parade on Monday to commemorate the birthday of a long dead monarch. Queen Victoria was amazing--longest female reign in the world, longest in England (male or female), gave a name to an era known for great advancements in every field of study, oversaw England's last expansion as an empire (hello, India, mind if we occupy you? We'll teach you cricket)--but very few people left know any of that (or care). Still, parade--yeah!! For five years of high school (this predated Victoria's induction of the middle school system), I participated in the parade as a member of the Reynolds High School Marching Band (I'm still very proud of the fact that I was one of a dozen grade eights asked to participate. It was a big honour for a band geek. The even bigger honour was that I was made point in my first year. That probably means nothing to you people so I'll return to things you do understand.) and with that came the distinction of being one of the most respected components of the parade. Not to over-exaggerate, but we're a big deal in the Victoria Parade Scene. Such a big deal, in fact, that since 1994, we have lead the civilian part of the parade (army always goes first) every year. Go Reynolds. It's been 12 years since I took part in the parade, but this year I will do it again. This time, however, it's not for my personal band glory but to support a dear friend.


No. Dear friend, d-e-A-r. Dear.

I met THR about seven years ago through a mutual friend. We had a shared sense of humour and way of looking at the world so it was only natural we would become friends ourselves. THR and 'the boy' have been trying to get pregnant since they got married and it's just. not. happening. After all these years, there is one thing I can say with certainty: infertility sucks. Not only does it take an emotional toll on all involved, but it can be very expensive and it's not covered under Canadian medical. (Well, that's not entirely true, Quebec recently announced they would start funding treatment. Qui veut devenir les Quebecois? Also, as a huge supporter of adoption, don't even get me started on the cost associated with that.) I watch this awesome couple struggle with something we were always told would come naturally. Women have been popping out babies for centuries; anyone can do it! Look at the number of teenagers getting pregnant and it really does seem like anyone can do it. There are girls giving birth and they don't even understand how they got pregnant! "But he pulled out before I climaxed, that stops you from getting pregnant, right?" They make me want to bang my head against a wall. Better yet, I should bang their's.

As tough as it is to watch THR go through this, I can only image how difficult it is for her. Month after month of trying, waiting, failing. Even the most positive person would crumble eventually and yet she doesn't give up. She has been very open and honest with us about it all; the right thing to say, the wrong thing to say, when she's hit a wall emotionally, and when she's secretly hating us all for our relatively carefree existences. I know what amazingly awesome parents she and the boy would be, and if I could give my right ovary to make this happen for her, I would do it right now. But I can't. Instead, I silently curse that this problem couldn't have all afflicted one of my friends who adamently doesn't want children and I support THR in any little way that I can. Right now, that means donning a bright yellow shirt (the colour of infertility) on Monday morning and marching the length of Douglas St.

Me on Sunday

In writing this, I did a few searches online and learned May 16th-22nd is/was fertility awareness week in Canada. Statistically speaking, you will know someone in your lifetime who struggles with fertility (or may be that person yourself). In the spirite of raising awareness: THR's take.

2 comments:

The Happy Ranter said...

Awww - you made me cry :) Love you too, lady!

Damn, I need to update my blog, don't I?

ChilkootChubby said...

Hugs.

And an update might be a good idea, but only because I miss my hilarious happy ranter.