Waiting for Vizzini

"I'm waiting for you, Vizzini -- you told me to go back to the beginning and so I have. And this is where I am and this is where I'll stay. I will not be moved."

"....when a job went wrong, you went back to the beginning. Well, this is where we got the job so it's the beginning and I'm staying till Vizzini comes. "

Inigo from The Princess Bride*


I once shared a house with a woman who had an entire living room wall filled with self help books. Her life was a a bit of mess, particularly on the relationship front, and she probably needed all the help she could get. You know the type of book- "How to Love Men who Can't Commit to Loving Women who Love Themselves Too Much".

At that stage in my life, I myself was dating a lot and, as it happens, getting dumped a lot. So I confess I also used to make frequent reference to these guides on how to improve my self-esteem, my self confidence, my self worth, my inner smile, be my own best friend, learn to let go, and above all, to move beyond the COMFORT ZONE.

Ah, the Comfort Zone. In a nutshell, the concept that people have certain aspects of life that we are simply used to, and in which we feel safe. Even if change or progression might be a good thing, getting there requires breaking free of the normal safe patterns.

When we decided to try for the three more months before moving to medical treatment, I felt enormous relief. I was going to put in every effort, all those tips and tricks hoarded up like pirate's gold over the last year and half. I hauled out the thermometer again, and renewed my zeal for evening primrose oil and green tea. We promised each other we would not just "babydance" (that horrid phrase), but get down and baby-DISCO, if that's what it takes.

But it has occured to me, as we throw down the gauntlet on yet another cycle, that I remain in familiar waters, old terrain. I know this path so well by now. What was once was an exciting adventure is now rote and mechanistic. So I chart my temperatures' tides. I monitor the secret secretions. And X marks the spot where we dig for buried treasure each night. But I am just repeating the same old story over and over again- there is no suspense now.

Each time we come up empty handed, but not entirely surprised. But it almost doesn't matter anymore if we are trapped, walking in circles in the maze, because at least as long as we remain here, we know there is nothing around the next corner that can bite us. Even if that means there is also nothing around the next corner for us to love.

I am in the TTC Comfort Zone. Moving out of that, to something else- be that drugs, needles, IUI, IVF- is to step off the map. To enter a part of the maze where we have never been, and where the cloud of possible disappointments seem to cast a longer shadow. And once we head off in that direction, I am not sure there is ever a way back.

Strangely, I feel as long as I stick to the road and stay off the moors, I can somehow better take the pain of each monthly failure. I can hang on to the hope, however misguided, that it will one day just happen. But I am not sure whether I will be able to bear it if we attempt medical intervention, and it fails. I really don't. Because then the problem becomes real, in a way I only acknowledge to myself in the darkest moments. Because even after these months of thinking and writing and talking about infertility, you know what? There is a huge part of me that still cannot believe this is happening. To me. To us. It wasn't supposed to turn out like this. I never signed up for this. In fact, fuck this altogether.

I know that soon, it will be time to be brave. That I cannot stay in this place much longer. The maze which leads us nowhere has become a prison rather than a safe haven. I know I must take a deep breathe, and gather every scrap of courage and strength to move to the next stage.

But for the moment, I'm back at the beginning. I will not be moved. I am waiting for Vizzini. I am waiting for something that may never come.



*With thanks to Moogielou for the loan of a theme.