All my experiences with IVF, which were softly superimposed by the betrayal, did not add peace of mind to me. My surrogate mother continued to do IVF, however, I took a break. All her attempts didn’t work either. All of our 20 embryos have been consumed. I came back to Utah and went back to drinking. I thought about death, but not in a philosophical context anymore. I imagined how they would find me
dead, where and who… Yes, I started experiencing classic depression. I realized that I could not control myself at all. The recent betrayal of my husband “untied” my hands, and by my “being single” tradition I knew where to find consolation. Men have always helped me. I needed a new romance.
I knew him for a long time, back from London, and he just moved to Los Angeles to work as a designer for one of the famous jeans production companies. Usually women don’t talk about such things, especially with a living husband, but since I’ve already started…
In some magical way, this guy managed to put my head back in place. One fine day we were sitting with him in a cafe, and he asked me: “You, Russian women, are so strange. Why aren’t you working? Especially when you have rich husbands??? All your problems, Masha, are from boredom!” How angry I got!!! I began to tell him that I stand at the stove day and night, take care of my child and a husband, and maintain comfort in the house. “You know, I’ve always thought better of you. It always seemed to me that you would have your own company, lead people, yet you became an ordinary dull housewife. You don’t like yourself in this role, so you tend to drink a lot while believing that all your troubles come from the impossibility of getting pregnant.”
I looked at him like I look at an icon of the Savior. “Start your business in Utah! What kind of help do you need? I’m ready to lend a hand. You’re in Los Angeles almost every week! Go downtown, explore showrooms, chat with people, open a fashion store in Salt Lake! They have a problem with fashion there anyways.”
He was a great guy, of course, but thank God, I didn’t love him. Despite this though, our relationship lasted long enough. He became my salvation. I ran from my house to him. I ran first of all from myself, without fully understanding who I am. My husband was so focused on himself, on his career, on his game that he didn’t seem to even realize that I had another man. At least that’s how it seemed to me. In fact, I
really went into business. I found a place, made some repairs there, and began to work with LA showrooms. This is how I became the “boutique owner”. I call myself that with great irony, because at some point, many housewives used to open boutiques. It was a trend. Until the 2008 crisis hit.
Working in retail (let’s call it that) is not such an easy job. I think those who worked in this industry know. Especially when you yourself are responsible for the money invested. Some women who have never been a part of this field often remarked: “Yes, he bought her a business so she could have fun!” I think women with such remarks should be appointed director of the store for at least a week and see what happens. This is a serious and responsible job. Considering that my business was organized on the territory of the “enemy” (USA), I really had to learn a lot. Payment systems, personnel management, accounting, working with suppliers, advertising, and marketing…
My new hobby turned off my consciousness at least for a while, and the idea of fixing everything with a child faded into the background. I was fascinated by the working process. I got so carried away that I didn’t even notice how I became pregnant.