Morbid night musings

So I was just lying awake last night and I said to myself, what if everything were lost. Like what if I got diagnosed with some kind of terminal cancer tomorrow, what would that do to my priorities? Don't ask why these thoughts were there. I found it hard to go to sleep without them.

I'd definitely stop all efforts at having a child. I mean of course, who wouldn't. I'd not even miss the idea that I'd be childless. I'd be worrying about other things, important things. I'd be throwing all of myself into giving my son and my husband what love I could as my last days rolled by. They are my real world and I'd need them to get through each passing day. I'd hold onto each second and use each minute to teach my child what I think he needs to know before I leave. I'd give all I have to them. This is what I mean by seeing my priorities with a clearer eye. I'm not seeing things in the right perspective right now at all. Some unattainable beast is monopolising my ability to see what's really important to me. I think that's what annoys me right now, that I have this beautiful, perfect boy and that I have to be distracted with this horrid infertility monster once again. This is why I talked with Seb about accepting the end of all of this nonsensical cycling. It's not to say that I can or will do it, it's just to explain the why.

There's a weird twist with trying to conceive. You can't just sort of turn off the button and not be involved, not stare at the calendar and not live for the famous two week wait. You just can't and it's funny because you can go to work and cook dinners each week and grocery shop and do other mundane things without the stress of waiting for and worrying about them, but trying to make babies as mundane as it is, is so different. It's like there's a biophysical chip in a woman's brain that won't let her be at peace until she gets that child. The chip sort of bleeps-bleeps all day long, and transmits the message to her brain and her heart and her everything, to think about procreating all day long. I don't know if it's possible to turn off the chip ourselves. It may be like that worm in The Matrix pulled from Keanu Reeve's stomach by suction. You'd have to physically deworm me to get me to forget that I want another baby. You'd have to give me a drug. You'd have to counsel me. You'd have to give me conk on the head. Even then it might not work.

Why is that I wonder?

In my late night, restless, ceiling staring slumber I wondered something weird. Had anyone ever become pregnant and then discovered they had a terminal illness like cancer? You know, kind of the reverse of what I'd been thinking earlier hey, night musings are like this. I decide I'd Google it the next morning and see. And well, the answer is yes. It was this poor woman, Susan Torres who went into a coma at 17 weeks gestation. I think this is an amazing story. Uh, better go grab the Kleenex.

As an aside, don't you think Susan Torres' husband looks just like Justin Timberlake. Watch the little video clip.