I lost my Moxie

1000 words dedicated to a little nub of soap.  Here goes.

Stay with me now.



In August, I happened upon a new vendor at the Walla Walla Farmer's Market.  The Moxie Organix booth drew me in.  Quite literally.  I'm a whore for great marketing and super cute packaging.  And let me tell you, Moxie done got some great packaging!  This gal makes all natural vegan soap and other fine body products.  It is positively the most luxurious soap I have ever felt on my skin. 

Only problem is that it's a tad too expensive for an infertile broke ass like me. 

So one Saturday the gal was giving out samples of her amazing soap.  I'm all about freebies, especially when it's really great stuff.  So I snagged just one little nub.  I mean it was a nub.  Think: the size of a happily chewed up hunk of Juicy Fruit.  It was itty bitty.  Yet even this little nub was packaged to the nines on a silver foil business card emblazoned with the Moxie Organix slogan "Brave skincare with a Heart"! 

This little nub of soap had recognizable bits of lavender in it which gently scrubbed the skin.  It smelled a bit like a clean hippie.  The lather it produced was milky and it felt so smooth on the skin.

That little sneeze of soap sat tucked away in my secret pouch in my purse for a few weeks.  Like most women, my secret pouch holds my tampons.  Real interesting, huh?  But I thought that was the best place for said nub of fantastic soap.  The way I figured, when I reach into that secret pouch--I'd like to think my fellow infertiles can attest to this fact--that grabbing for a tampon is like conceding to another reproductive failure.  So what better place to put a bit of soap where I can enjoy a wiff of lavender before facing yet another depressing moment? 

And there it sat, tucked away in my purse.  Until August when we started phase one of our first IVF, where it was moved to the right side of my sink in our master bathroom.  Then it became the one nice little part of a very taxing--and sometimes physically and emotionally painful--ritually of nightly injections. 

This little nub of fancy soap has been one of the few self-loving habits I have employed during each and every wretched cycle.  I had a practice of grabbing the soap and vigorously shuffling it over my my palms where I could feel the bits of lavender scrape away the nerves...the anxiety...the tension.  Adding a bit of water, I'd bring up the lather.  The milkiness was a soothing way to cover the recently scrubbed skin.  Who wouldn't want to be coated in moxie...coated in something brave? 

I would say in my head, "Moxie on this injection...moxie for this cycle."

It probably sounds a bit strange...you might be thinking this woman is trippin on soap. 

To most folks I am trippin on soap...

But if you have been where I've been and felt what I've felt as often as I have felt it...and you find any little tangible thing in your everyday that can momentarily give you strength and hope even for just a fraction of a second...well, you'd cling tight to it just the same. 

Moxie means...determination...the ability to meet difficulties with courage and spirit.  I've even seen some online definitions showing it was a slang term for spunk, synonymous for grit and gumption...and even the lewd word for "balls".  What can I say...the word just fits me.  It's a little bit sentimental and a little bit snappy.

And I made the essence of moxie a part of my nightly injection routine.  Who couldn't use a little goddamn moxie right before they jab a needle in their gut?

And yesterday, at 7:12pm as I was in the final stages of lupron injection prep, I grabbed for that little nub of Moxie I had left.  Before I could get that moxie to slough off the nerves, anxiety and bad jou-jou I had been carrying around with me all day, that little nub--which had actually become more of a sliver--jutted out between my fingers...

and down the drain.

I've lost my moxie.

My little nub of spunk is gone.