Fasten your seat belts

Standing in an airport gate, three weeks to the start of our cycle. Seized the opportunity to sneak off for a little downtime. To the functional IVF-er, it might seem a waste, seeing as I’m already on birth control. Yet, I was determined that we had a little alone time just to be.
It’s quite poetic, really, the idea of passengers and taking off and reaching new levels. And feeling somewhat disorientated, pretending you have some control over the situation when you don’t, really.
Truth: fertility issues take a bigger toll on relationships that many realise, and that most care to admit. Sex becomes purposeful. Some might say transactional. You might cook a steak and pop a nice wine, but he knows it’s being served up with a gigantic O around it. For the cautious, those magical days are followed by stretches of abstinence, just in case you jiggle the potential embryo out of place. Limbo. And then there’s your period. And then it’s time for steak again. Ooooom.
Add IVF for even more tension and hormone-driven turbulence. How can you not like forging a connection with a plastic cup? And then negotiating around each other’s corners on tiptoe? And then do it four times and add losses for good measure. Not ideal. For anyone.
(If you’ve discovered the magic formula to not experiencing any kind of Gonal F+progesterone+everything else relationship seizure amid it all, please, please share it).
Anyway, we decided that it might be nice to just do something fun and completely ignore/forget the cycle while we can by going someplace we’ve never been ahead of the next one. It’ll be a good break for us both, especially since the Man routinely works long hours and returns shattered.
I like seeing new cities (and even old ones) through his eyes, mostly because we tend to pick up on such different nuances. Plus, new cities are mentally consuming – you’re constantly focused on trying not to get lost. Or at least I am. There is so much to take in. New sounds and smells, surprising colours and corners. Plus… meals you don’t have to cook and beds you don’t have to make. You have no idea how much that means to me.
As with every cycle, you’re still going to bang up against pregnant women and babies on every street corner (how does that always happen?!), but for the most part, it’s a great distraction-reconnection combo. It’s also only when we’re away that we’re actually completely tuned in to each other. Life’s like that. You get busy, distracted, disconnected. You share a space but are not necessarily together. You need to escape yourselves.
So anyway, we’re off to this city to see some, do some and be some. We will return rosy-cheeked, well-fed, holding hands, and steeled to do this again. At least that’s the plan.
Ready for take-off.

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