Friday, August 7, 2009

Saying it with a song

I almost hate to file the complaint prompting this post.

Truly, I've been the recipient of so very few pieces of unsolicited TTC advice since saddling up for the rodeo 6 years ago. And for that I feel . . . unique.

But I'll be hanged if I didn't just recently get some. TTC "at your age" advice, I mean. It made no sense to me AT ALL that I was getting it. My adviser, you see, knows that TTC is off the table at my house. That that life phase is over. (Did, dad, dud.)

As you know, my dear readers, the decision to end said phase was not made blithely. So I'm sure you can imagine that hearing out-of-the-blue advice about how I might just get knocked up "at home" after all (seriously?) — and with the clear implication that I should be thankful to hear it, not to mention impressed that the adviser held her tongue while I was actually trying to start a family — felt a bit slappy.

I'm not going to offer particulars about the specific words of wisdom or who threw them in my face as though I might easily expect to pass a fully gestated baby into the toilet the next time I relieved myself. I will, however, say that I think I handled it casually. Politely. Yet definitively.

What I didn't do was point out how my advice-giver has absolutely no flipping clue. Where I am and where I've been on this path — at full-on 44, with intimate knowledge of my own, actual fertility profile and reproductive history, years of both so-called natural methods and medical interventions under my belt, having ALREADY researched the hell out of relevant-to-me topics all along the way, past tense — IS where I've been and where I am. I don't need no stinking Monday-morning quarterbacking.

In a fun moment of happenstance, I watched Postcards from the Edge last night and thought this number perfectly captured my experience and sentiments on a number of butt-kicking levels.

My favorite lyrics snippet, in case you'd rather not sit through the video:

"I've run the gamut, A to Z. Three cheers, and dammit, c'est la vie. I got through all of last year, and I'm here. Lord knows, at least I was there . . . and I'm here."


Beautiful Mess said...

WOW! I'm not sure I could be graceful. Pretty sure I'd be spiteful at the very least. I'm so sorry this was said to you. That's not fair or nice at all. Perfect clip though!

Polly Gamwich said...

That was PERFECT! And I thought that right when she was singing the line you quoted and there you were ... quoting it!

Lisa, I'm so sorry for stupid people. Too bad there wasn't a piano nearby when you got the assvice so you could have played this number! ... Only in the movies!

Lost in Space said...

I'm impressed with your restraint and sorry that you had to hear and deal with this at all...

Tara said...

You freaking rock. I LOVE that quote! The video wouldn't pull up for me for some reason.

I'm sorry stupid people exist and so often want to push their advice on us when we know way more about this crap than they could ever even dream of.


Phoebe said...

I can see how someone would try to say something "helpful" not knowing where you have been. I often find this "advice" is more about making the other person feel better than actually doing anything but make you feel crappy. The whole IF thing is just something you do not get unless you have been there yourself. Worst yet is unsolicited ass-vice. Hugs.