Sunday, September 22, 2013

Never Enough Fishens

A family member is expecting soon. I pulled out my usual trick: my baby mittens that look like little fish. This is the third time I've made these, and every time they're fun and quick to make. Mothers have so far told me that the comic effect from when the kid shoves the fish in his or her mouth is worth a million bucks.

I used bright colors this time.

As for me, I'm fine. I am not getting anywhere near enough knitting done, seeing as I somehow have to empty out the closet of my knitting room/office, which is set to become a baby room. This is a terribly stressful proposal: I've never in my life been good at clearing out things. In fact, I hate doing it. And I married a guy who really, really likes doing it.

The stash has to find another home in a house with little storage. Mr. MGY knows better than to suggest the attic, but we might not have many other options if I don't start tearing through some of this yarn pretty soon here.

What's that? Sell some of it off?

Shut up.

Otherwise… I would talk about myself, but here's the thing. You go through the nastiness of infertility treatments, and if you are one of the lucky ones, you arrive at a curious place. You've come from a place where being around pregnant women is like wearing a sandpaper bra. Hearing about babies, pregnancies, all that: sandpaper.

Then suddenly your hands are made of sandpaper. Your voice, your entire appearance is made of sandpaper. Somehow, other people don't seem to mind - skin like leather, I suppose. But you suddenly are the thing that caused you terrific pain for all that time.

And being open about it, well, that's weird, too. Just Friday night, I had the following conversation with a couple gals at a show:

M: When are you due?!
me: January.
M: An Aquarius!
T: Oooh. I heard that January and February babies are the healthiest, because they were conceived at the most beautiful time of year.
me (laughing): This one was conceived in January and then spent three months in liquid nitrogen.
M: I guess she'll have two signs, then?

Generally I try not to drop conversational bombs like that. I just thought that astrology and extreme medical science would make for an interesting intellectual mix.

If it were only my story, I would just tell everything here in blogland, because it's pretty intense and it could make for some cool reading. But it's not just my story. 

Mr. MGY has said straight-up that I need to write this out somehow. Make something from it, turn it into something worthwhile. I will, in time. But for now, as tempting as it is to write out everything and retell this story in a way that will fit these events more comfortably into the awkward spaces of my memory - isn't that what autobiography does? - it needs the right time and place. 

Until that time and place comes along, I'll be doing my best to knit up the stash. Wish me luck.

1 comment:

Sarah said...

Thank you so much again! They are adorable! Can't wait until she gets to wear them.