Throughout this journey, my one reprieve, my one safe place, has been the world of sports.
Maybe that's odd, but I have a deep love of and passion for sports, particularly, "my" teams.
So, through all of this turmoil and hormonal crazes, games and sports talk has been the place where conceiving and IF, and pregnancy and babies don't exist.
In sports, I can scream my lungs out at my quarterback for throwing late game interceptions that cost us the game (would anybody like to guess my NFL team affiliation?). I can literally cry when the basketball star I love so much leads his team - finally - to their first ever NBA championship win and concoct a way for work to let me have some paid hours to go watch a victory parade where I got to scream some more in joy. And I can sit on the couch during the 9th inning of the World Series while my team's closer damn near gives me a heart attack with every pitch.
(Have you guessed where I live yet?)
I will fully admit that I take out some of my pent-up frustrations on my sports teams. I don't mean to and I've always been this passionate, but this last year, I think I've been worse.
I can, and nearly do, listen to sports radio or TV all day long. ESPN is on one of the TVs in our house at all times. The radio in my car lives on local ESPN radio. I follow lots of local and national sports guys on Twitter - and quote them. I love stats, I love player and sideline and clubhouse stories.
And I know that in many ways, my zeal has to do with sports being the place where I don't have to think about my BBT or cycle day or the emptiness that surronds so much of my life.
Every once in awhile, though, the two "worlds" still cross. Cameras get the cute baby in baseball team garb and The Hubby says "we need a kid!" Or you see a little clip of a player on the field with his kid throwing the ball around before the game.
But, yesterday, the two worlds collided and I couldn't escape into my safe place.
And I hate what I'm about to say.
I live in the Dallas area. My team is the Cowboys. Radio and TV and newpapers and Twitter are Cowboys overload. Tony Romo is our quarterback.
On my drive home from work yesterday afternoon, I got to hear the gal who does SportsCenter announce that Tony Romo and his wife are expecting their first child at least 3 times. This was again discussed a couple of times during the show I was listening to.
The couple got married at the end of May.
Here's the thing, I happen to love Tony Romo despite his flaws and, really, I'm happy for him and his wife. He's a good guy, she seems like a good person, yay for them.
And I am painfully aware that nobody else's fertility has any bearing on my own.
But it hurt like hell to hear. Over and over again.
ESPN, my sports world, is the one place where I don't want to feel that way. The one place where I can escape all my feelings.
And yesterday, and today, that was taken away.
Maybe that's odd, but I have a deep love of and passion for sports, particularly, "my" teams.
So, through all of this turmoil and hormonal crazes, games and sports talk has been the place where conceiving and IF, and pregnancy and babies don't exist.
In sports, I can scream my lungs out at my quarterback for throwing late game interceptions that cost us the game (would anybody like to guess my NFL team affiliation?). I can literally cry when the basketball star I love so much leads his team - finally - to their first ever NBA championship win and concoct a way for work to let me have some paid hours to go watch a victory parade where I got to scream some more in joy. And I can sit on the couch during the 9th inning of the World Series while my team's closer damn near gives me a heart attack with every pitch.
(Have you guessed where I live yet?)
I will fully admit that I take out some of my pent-up frustrations on my sports teams. I don't mean to and I've always been this passionate, but this last year, I think I've been worse.
I can, and nearly do, listen to sports radio or TV all day long. ESPN is on one of the TVs in our house at all times. The radio in my car lives on local ESPN radio. I follow lots of local and national sports guys on Twitter - and quote them. I love stats, I love player and sideline and clubhouse stories.
And I know that in many ways, my zeal has to do with sports being the place where I don't have to think about my BBT or cycle day or the emptiness that surronds so much of my life.
Every once in awhile, though, the two "worlds" still cross. Cameras get the cute baby in baseball team garb and The Hubby says "we need a kid!" Or you see a little clip of a player on the field with his kid throwing the ball around before the game.
But, yesterday, the two worlds collided and I couldn't escape into my safe place.
And I hate what I'm about to say.
I live in the Dallas area. My team is the Cowboys. Radio and TV and newpapers and Twitter are Cowboys overload. Tony Romo is our quarterback.
On my drive home from work yesterday afternoon, I got to hear the gal who does SportsCenter announce that Tony Romo and his wife are expecting their first child at least 3 times. This was again discussed a couple of times during the show I was listening to.
The couple got married at the end of May.
Here's the thing, I happen to love Tony Romo despite his flaws and, really, I'm happy for him and his wife. He's a good guy, she seems like a good person, yay for them.
And I am painfully aware that nobody else's fertility has any bearing on my own.
But it hurt like hell to hear. Over and over again.
ESPN, my sports world, is the one place where I don't want to feel that way. The one place where I can escape all my feelings.
And yesterday, and today, that was taken away.
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