All By Myself...

After I sent the email to my husband yesterday, explaining what had happened at the doctor’s office and what my decision was regarding the future, I expected a call.  I fell asleep waiting for the call that never came.  When my husband came home last evening, he walked past my bedroom door and went straight to the dog pen, to take the dogs outside.  Then, after all of that was straightened away, he came in to see me.  By that point, I already knew that he hadn’t fully, or wouldn’t fully, grasp the enormity of what I was going through.  When we finally talked, it went something like this….

“I got your email.  Sorry your stomach still hurts.”

“Thank you.  The pills are helping.  It’s a little better.  What did you think about the other part?”

“What other part?”

“About me not being able to go through this again if this doesn’t work.  Are you okay with that?”

“It’s going to work this time.”

“But if it doesn’t…”

“It is.”

“But [Prince], if it doesn’t…I need to know you are still okay with the idea of adoption.  I need to know you won't leave me if I can't get pregnant.  I know that before you had said you were okay with adoption, but we haven’t talked about it in so long that…”

“Yeah.  You become rich and famous and make a million dollars so we can afford adoption and I’ll be fine with it.  How about that?  It doesn’t matter.  It’s going to work this time.  Sorry you are having a hard time.” 

And with that, he walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I’ve used denial as a coping mechanism often enough to recognize total denial when I see it.  The Prince isn't just being a Positive Polly about this egg donor cycle, he's in denial about the possibility of it failing.  There's a difference, and only one results in you slamming the door.  After the door incident, the Prince remained surly.  When I jokingly said to him, “You know women who are in lots of pain physically and emotionally claim that flowers from their husbands work wonders at making them feel better,”  he said, “You know, people who have personal training appointments just like to go to the gym without being bothered.”  Ouch!  

With the assistance of my pain med, I went out and had Indian food with my good friends last night, shortly after the Prince left for the gym.  It was important that I not sit next to the Prince all night, watching him shut me out emotionally.  That wouldn’t have been good for anyone.  He was pleasant enough when I got home, but he went to bed very early, in his own bedroom.

This morning, the Prince was laughing and joking…trying to make me smile by dancing around in his towel after his shower.  Later, when he got back from his morning workout, he brought me a dozen roses and a dozen donuts.  He’s not capable of having a serious talk with me about anything that is going on…but his actions speak volumes.  Even though both of us know that a dozen donuts is the last thing my hips need right now, we also both know that food is my drug of choice to soothe pain, and him getting me donuts is his way of saying that he wants me to feel better (even though he may later lecture me on eating healthier food choices).  The flowers are his way of saying that he is listening to me and cares about what I need/want.  It may seem like I’m reading too much into his gifts, but I know my husband.  He’s not so good at “using his words,” so his actions really do mean a lot and the messages in his gifts have to be deciphered.  Soon after he brought me the gifts...he left.

I’m all by myself now.  He decided that he needed a weekend alone and so he took off to a hotel, to be by himself, much like I did a month or so ago.  He’ll be back tomorrow evening.  At first I was livid that he could be so insensitive, leaving me when I am so emotionally frayed.  I wanted to yell: What part of “I feel so alone in all of this and need you to comfort me” are you not able to understand?  But I didn't yell.  I decided that him being here this weekend isn’t going to change my situation.  I’m sleeping most of the time because of the pain medicine anyways.  It would be nice if he was the type of husband who couldn't be dragged away by wild horses.  Who would stay at my bedside and shower me with affection until the storm clouds parted.  But he's not that guy.  I get why he needs to go away right now and it's okay.  He may not fully understand, but I do.  He needs to process what he’s feeling, but away from me…so he can feel what he needs to feel without worrying about saying or doing something that is going to hurt me more (like slamming a door).  In that sense, even if it is unintentional, he is looking out for me, too.  Plus...I'm not totally alone.  I do have donuts to keep me company.