The Great Amalah Caper
The Lazy Crazy


(I meant to write a 9/11 entry. Maybe to tell you about how I was trapped in traffic on a bridge in D.C. when I saw the fireball at the Pentagon and felt like the world was coming to an end. Or maybe to tell you how I drove to work anyway because I didn't know what else to do, and how I watched another driver at a red light singing along to a CD, oblivious to the horror unfolding on the radio waves. Or maybe to tell you how my brother-in-law was on the subway when the planes hit, having just left the WTC a few minutes earlier and how I remember my ears ringing when I heard this news. Or maybe to simply say that I remember that morning like it was just this morning, and that I hope you do too. That's what I should have written. I wrote this instead.)

I get a lot of hits from Julie’s monster master list of infertility blogs. I'm linked under "Trying."

I guess I’m not really in that category anymore, but I haven’t asked to be taken off the list. Partly because, hell, I get a lot of traffic from it and, you know, I’m a whore like that.

But mostly because I refuse to think about it in black-and-white terms. No, we’re not actively trying to conceive. Yes, we’re using birth control. No, there’s not going to be a change in this arrangement anytime soon.

I’ve gotten used to this idea. When my psychiatrist told me that I would need to put all thoughts of pregnancy on hold for at least nine months, it hurt. Like hell. But at that time I was completely, utterly and batshittily sick and out of control. I was threatening to leave Jason and run away with someone else or maybe simply RUN AWAY, far away, where no one could find me. So the whole plan of having a baby was already starting to crumble. Just a bit.

Thank God, we're past that whole breed of Crazy, and recommitted to the idea that we WILL have a baby together and it WILL be wonderful and it WILL happen for us, as God is our witness, shaking our fists at the sky, etc.

Setbacks in finding the right combination of medications have pushed back our plans to a full year or so. I accepted this news with a shrug of the shoulders and a weary “Well, duh.”

I’m in no shape to be anyone’s mother. Even my puppy annoys the living shit out of me with the neediness and the hyper and the noise and the mess and I weep openly when I can’t get her to eat and once the cat starts in with the howling for food I start thinking that chucking them both out the window sounds like a damn fine idea.

(And oh, my God, to everyone whose fingers are already itching to fire off an indignant comment or email or threaten to call the ASPCA on me or whatever: I WOULD NEVER THROW MY ANIMALS OUT THE WINDOW. Both pets are well-fed and loved and showered with attention and toys and expensive, organic, all-natural treats because nothing on God’s green earth is too good for my precious babies. Okay? Good.)

But you get the idea. Am hanging on by a thread as it is. Baby? No fucking thank you. The idea of post-partum depression or relapsing in future years scares the shit out of me. I wonder if I'm being irresponsible even considering becoming a parent. Perhaps it is all Meant To Be This Way.

And yet.

And yet when our next-door neighbors came home from the hospital today, bearing baby girl number two, flushed with excitement and pride and the joy of being a family, the old wound was reopened.  And the longing for one of my own was rubbed raw.

Ouch. OUCH. I cried. I sat on our stupid second couch that we STILL have not gotten rid of and cried. I cried when my mom called and asked, “How’s the baby?” even though I knew she meant the puppy.

I cried when I wrote that just now.

I just feel so…DAMAGED. The infertility could be a result of the chemical problems in my brain. The infertility drugs could be responsible for my rapid decline and resistance to medications that worked for me in the past. 

So if I get better, maybe I’ll conceive more easily. But if I don’t, and I go back on Clomid or some other hormone-charged drug, maybe I’ll get sick all over again.

My head hurts just thinking about that vicious little circle.

So I try not to think about it. For now? I’m only trying to get better. I’m trying to get better, and then I will try to get pregnant.

So I’m not asking Julie to take me off the “Trying” list. Because I still am. Harder than ever.


I’m still going to cry about the baby next door a little more though.



Oh Amy, I can't imagine how much that hurts. But you take care of yourself first, and I promise that the rest will all fall into place later. And meanwhile, anytime you want to come to Phoenix, I've got two kiddos that like to snuggle with strangers.

your adoring handmaiden for ever and ever

Oh Amy, I wish there was something I could say or do to make the pain and sadness and terrible hurt go away. All I can tell you is I think you are amazing and wonderful and brilliant and I love you in a totally-non-stalker-internet way.


Wow. Wow. I have been lurking away on your blog for a while, but just wanted to tell you that you're an amazing woman, and I wish you well with your recovery and future baby plans.


I can't even imagine what you must be struggling through, but I am so amazed by your strength. I am sending virtual hugs your way!


WHEN you become a mother (and yes, I mean WHEN not IF) you are going to be AMAZING. Not to trivialize the pain of infertility for even a nanosecond, but I tell anyone who will listen that infertility has saved my children's lives more than once. Had I become a mother when I first planned to, I would not be the mother I am now. I am not a patient person by nature and I struggled with depression and anxiety for years. The combination of events that brought me here have made me both a better mother and someone who takes damn fine care of herself now even when I don't feel like it, because my kids deserve a healthy mom.

And I would take away your hurt, sweetie, if I could. I would. But it's shaping you into the fabulous mother you will soon become. You'll see.

Have your cry. And then have some chocolate. And keep getting better, and hang on to your future, because it's waiting for you.


Would it make you smile if I told you that today, a coworker said she wanted a mini pinscher, and I started bragging about how adorable Ceiba is and even treatened to bring pictures? ;)



You will work through this. You are a fantastic person who deserves happiness and is willing to fight for it and surround herself with people who will help her in that fight.

Just remember, it's not always about the journey, as long as you're working towards the destination your heart really desires. And you'll get there, hopefully as quickly as possible.

Loave and Hugs,


You are so going to get through this, because you're a smart, capable, strong person (did I mention so very pretty?), and you manage to make me laugh even when you're not feeling so hot. I'm not planning to have the babies, so I will send all of my pregnancy karma and good will that's floating around the universe your way, ok?


You WILL be okay. You WILL get through this. This too SHALL pass. Hang in there.


Now I am going to go cry.


(Don;t look at me, I'm hideous!)

PS - Proud of you, girl.


I don't even know what to say that won't sound trite but I will blather for a minute, anyway. You are going to get better, girl, and this WILL happen for you! I admire you for having the presence of mind to know that having a baby wouldn't be the best thing right now. There are so, so many people who are too selfish to admit something like that, who then forge ahead even though it's a bad idea, and they end up in horrible situations. You are putting your future children -- people who don't even exist yet; who are only ideas -- ahead of your own wants and that is so fucking courageous. I applaud you. You will get better and you will have babies and you will do it up right. And, till then, you have every right to cry about the baby next door, or the one that passes you on the street. This being unselfish business just plain sucks, sometimes.


I can lurk in the shadows of being a 'just-reader' no longer!
You can be a mother if you can take care of your man, and if you have a sense of humor. I have no children of my own, but I've raised FIVE until the ripe old age of two. AND I've got a mooshy brain. And I STILL think that I would be a crappy mom, even though my hub-unit says I will be the best mom ever.
You may cry when the other new babies come home, but soon enough, when the time is right, you will cry when your own baby sheds his first 'feed-me-you-bitch-I'm-hungry" tears.
Love you doll, believe me it gets better.
Besides, I have three cats and I think CONSTANTLY about chucking out the window. Wouldn't in the crunch, but every now and then...


Saw your name in someone's comment list and ended up here...

And now I'm crying with you..

OK - let me just say that becoming a parent is like taking every part of you that gave you some sense of self and placing it in a glass jar - for later. Because once the baby comes, nothing is the same. And you find new things to call your own, but mostly they revolve around nipples, milk, diapers and wondering when you will eat sitting down again.

What I'm trying to say is, there's no rush. When you get there, you'll know it, and as long as you have time right now to NOT be there yet, please, please try and revel in it, because this time too means something - it is your time to be with yourself, and to be with your man - in a way you never will be again. Please don't worry about what will happen in six months. Just be where you are and know that it is good. You are now becoming the person who will be,when the time is right, an amzing mom. Patience, and faith.



Ok, so I know you're the Queen of Everything - but you really are the best! I really admire your approach - to look at getting the meds adjusted and the brain crankin' again as steps along the path to a baby. And, if you're even a teensy bit like me, you will have moments when all you can think about is Getting To The Baby. But, as Angel said, that doesn't mean you can't have some fun, sometimes, in the here and now. Anyway, I too am de-lurking on this one. Good luck...

type a

and i'm ranting about people who stand on escalators? can we say perspective?

i agree with mir; pardon the cliche, but perhaps it'll all come together when it's supposed to? and not a minute sonner? and you're the strongest girl ever for still standing.

sure, shoes and burritos won't fix it all, but it's a beginning?


crying at work is not good, but luckily no one else is here right now... I'm so sorry that you are having to deal with this. depression and "the crazy" is hard enough to handle, without WANTING something so bad you can't STAND it.

I am starting to itch for a baby myself, but my doctor says I have to wait another 15 months before I can start TRYING (because of my lap-band).

Best of luck to you sweetie. Good thoughts are being sent your way!


PS - Your 9/11 blurb gave me chills. I'm so glad YOU were safe so that I could meet you down the line in 2004.

I think one of the things we can do to honor the casualties is to keep loving life, even through the pain. If we let the bastads get us down, they win, right? It is so healthy and good and important to grieve and remember, and I'm glad we can do that. But I'm also glad that we can have fun times, good times, in the years that follow.

May there be peace, and soon.

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