Solitary Confinement and One Woman's Quest for a Shower

This whole snowed in thing has certainly lost its appeal.  I'm finding myself sinking lower and lower into a state of self-pity that can only be remedied by a meal OUTSIDE THIS HOUSE.  The problem is, I require a shower to go anywhere public. "Just jump in," you suggest? I can't. I'm waiting for Mr. UPS guy to deliver my injectibles. As these things usually go, I get in the shower and DING DONG!  So, I wait.  DH isn't going to be pleased if I'm not ready to go when he gets here, but what can I do?  I'm stuck!

With all this wonderful time inside, I've been reading Pictures of You by Caroline Leavitt and the main character, Isabelle Stein, is...yep....infertile.  The issue of her infertility is but a small detail in the whole story, but it looms always. Her want for a child, her need to fulfill her maternal instinct is palpable. A particular passage resonated with me and chilled me to the bone:

Isabelle knew this phenomenon. Be tortured by something and the world was sure to serve it up to you.  Since she had moved to New York, she saw mothers and sons everywhere on the street. She could be in an empty movie theater and a parent with a child was sure to sit in the row right in front of her.

Be tortured by something and the world is sure to serve it up to you. Isn't that the truth? I want to be pregnant and since we moved to Oklahoma almost six months ago, I've been stalked by pregnancy from everywhere from the grocery store to the "fertility feed" on facebook.  I want my parents, but they are too far away.  I see mothers and daughters lunching and it stings like a slap.  I want a friend and yet there's no one.  I have acquaintances. I want an honest-to-goodness friend. I want to be me and say what I want and for them to know the real me isn't in the frustrations that I vent or the sarcasms that I speak. Every time I go out, I see friends together. They are shopping or lunching or working out together and it tortures me that I haven't a kindred spirit in this time zone. 

I am trying to prepare myself for a huge endeavor in this IVF cycle.  This is one of those colossal undertakings that typically require a support group the size of  your restaurant "large party" table.  I have my husband to lean on. And when the hormones kick in I'm probably the last person he'll want to be around, not that he understands the ins and outs of the female brain without the influence of hormonal medicinal rage, but you can't put a price tag on a good girlfriend.

I want to feel settled.


I want to feel home.


I want to feel like I belong.

I guess I'll settle for the dinner out tonight. I still really need that shower, though.