Monday, November 22, 2010

Carbonara and Other Beat Up Eggs

I'm making carbonara tonight for dinner. It's that wonderful, creamy combination of parmesean cheese, cream and eggs. It's silky and decadent and I'm way too excited about it!
For some reason, probably because I am obsessed, carbonara brought me to think about TTC. Maybe it's the common denomenator of the eggs?
On my favorite TTC website a friend has been having a hard time. There is basically a huge debate/argument over whether or not she is pregnant or it was the fading of her HCG trigger. I personally, do not care. Either way it must be devestating. We don't know for sure if she is/was pregnant but she is in my thoughts today.
It got me to thinking about my eggs. I have them. Plenty of them. Seemingly healthy. They just don't want to come out. I know that if I can get my body to ovulate regularly I will get pregnant. it's getting to that point that I have trouble with. I can't say the same for a few friends who are struggling with poor egg quality and diminished reserve. These women have gotten pregnant, where I haven't, but they went on to lose the pregnancies.
I've been reading about how these women are dealing with their losses. Some cry, some laugh, some pretend that it didn't happen or shake it off with admirable optimism. "At least I know that I can get pregnant."
I, thankfully, have not had to deal with a loss; early or otherwise. I find myself unknowing of what to say. Should I give condolences? Should I make a joke? (Not to be mean but if you know me then you know that humor is my answer to everything. I joked during my C-Section b/c I was so scared). Do I congratulate them on at least getting pregnant? Do I grieve with them and bemoan the unfairness of rotten eggs?
I digress and ramble. I struggle with this everyday. What is my egg doing? Am I going to ovulate? Did my egg fertilize? Did my egg implant? I think alot about eggs.
The linguine alla carbonara just makes me giggle. Out of a delicious egg based sauce I get the reference of beaten eggs. My eggs are beat up. Often forced out of a comfortable situation by mass amounts of hormones. My friends' eggs are whipped and beat as well.
So, I say this unto my egg-cellant friends, let's all combine our beaten, whipped, sad batch of rotten eggs into one perfectly balanced, truthfully delicious carbonara sauce. If we can't get pregnant with our eggs, at least we can eat them.

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