So I have this plant, this very sad plant. I have no idea what kind of plant this is, aside from House Plant. It is the only plant we have inside our home. It was given to us as a housewarming gift by someone who had no idea what a danger I am to green and growing things.*
For the last year, this poor plant has been hanging on by a thread (kind of like me). It looks so pathetic that I actually quit watering it, hoping it would just go ahead and die so I could empty the pot and move on to killing other plants outside. I sometimes wonder if the Professor has been watering it behind my back (though to be fair, I have not expressly forbidden this), because the damn thing simply will not die. It now consists of two stalks bearing a total of three leaves. But it is still green, still alive.
I found myself contemplating this poor little thing the other night, and my thoughts kept jumping from the plant to my infertility and our repeated failed cycles and back to the plant again. I kind of feel like my motivation and hopes in our struggle to conceive are reflected in this indomitable little mess of a plant. Every time a leaf turns brown and dries up, I pick it off only to see a new leaf break out of the top of the stalk. There are always just enough leaves for the little plant to look alive. And cycle after failed cycle, we pick ourselves up, revise our strategy with just enough hope to make another attempt at beating infertility. I've certainly received more love and better care than Plant, and while neither the plant nor I have actually seen much improvement, we both keep pushing forward.
I'm thinking of giving it a name and some water. Maybe some fresh soil. But if I start taking care of it and it dies, what will that mean for me?
*Note to self: Don't forget to go out and be dangerous to the green and growing weeds in the front yard ASAP!