On Monday, I booked my flight out on Thanksgiving day for my grandpa’s funeral. I leave around noon, so there will be no Thanksgiving dinner at the birdsandsquirrels household. I asked S numerous times if that was okay, if he would mind being alone, and he said he didn’t care at all, and I don’t think he does. He could go to his aunt’s for an extended family thing, but we both decided to avoid that weeks ago, partly because there would be nothing for us to eat, and we’d get asked about when we are going to have kids. We were going to cook a vegetarian feast for just the two of us, but now it’s going to have to wait.
While I love the idea of a non-religious holiday all about being thankful, it’s not so exciting for us vegetarians. I can’t tell you how many Thanksgivings over the past twenty years I just ate mashed potatoes and salad. Until Tofurky came along. I made my dad cook a Tofurky in addition to a regular turkey for a couple of years. Then when I moved here, I cooked Thanksgiving dinner for S, me, and the in-laws. They are meat eaters, but they pretty willingly will eat our crazy vegetarian food. I went all out the past two years, even just for four people. Tofurky roasted with all kinds of vegetables, vegetarian gravy, stuffing (do you know how nearly impossible it is to find meat free stuffing? Every kind seems to have chicken and chicken fat in it), potatoes, green salad, sweet potatoes, cranberry disaster, two different kinds of rolls, and pumpkin pie. There was way too much food, but it was important for me to do it right.
I felt bad for S, so I offered to make the Tofurky on Wednesday, so then he could have leftovers on T-day. By himself, probably in his boxers, playing video games. Anyway, I told him I wasn’t going to go all out, since I have to pack and I don’t want to stress myself out, so it would be just the Tofurky and vegetables. None of the other stuff. I figured it wouldn’t be that hard to do, and we already have one Tofurky defrosted.
Then, at nine oclock last night, S gets a call from his parents. “Um, I don’t know what you can bring. Hold on, let me ask her.” I glare at him. He invited his parents over for what he called “an early thanksgiving dinner” without telling (or asking) me, and leading them to believe I’m doing a whole dinner. The house is a complete fucking disaster, I have to pack for a week long trip the next day, I’m trying to stay calm so that fertilization and cellular division and implantation can occur, and now I have all this pressure to recreate Thanksgiving dinner on a half a day’s notice. He told his parents he’d call them back. “Um, did I forget to tell you I invited them?” he says. Um, yeah.
After a few minutes of stewing, I found the solution. I asked him if we could just go out somewhere with his parents and we’d do the vegetarian feast when I get back in a week. I felt a little bad, but I can’t get all worked up about this. I put so much pressure on myself to do everything perfectly that I knew I just couldn’t do it. So he called his parents back and suggested that instead, and now I have only my packing to stress about.
On another note, this infertility process has given us some very odd, humorous, and slightly uncomfortable conversations with his parents. Saturday night, at a Mexican restaurant, they asked all kinds of odd questions over our enchiladas and tacos.
Father in law: So with the ultrasound do they have to press down really hard on your stomach to see the ovaries?
Me: Um, it’s transvaginal, actually.
Mother in law: How big is it?
Me: (use my hands to show the dimensions of the probe)
Me: (trying to change the subject off the transvaginal ultrasound probe). Here’s a printout from my ultrasound from a few months ago, if you want to see what the follicles look like.
MIL: So, do they see your vagina on the ultrasound?
Me: (totally confused about what the fuck she is asking). Um, the probe is actually in there, so it’s pointing at my cervix, and they move it around until they find the ovaries to the side.
MIL (keep in mind, she is S’s stepmom): ( on the phone, to S, the night before the IUI) So are you brewing lots of sperm? Do you have to masturbate at the doctor’s or at home?
Since we have told them about our infertility a couple of months ago, we’ve been really open with them, and they have asked a lot of questions. A lot of questions. I think I’m going to have to set some rules though. No taking about vaginas while eating tacos. Or at any restaurants for that matter.