transcended.net

I think that for the most part I’ve been coping with things pretty well. The new job role has helped a lot since it has given me other stuff to focus my on (like my alarm buzzing at 4am!)).

I may have mentioned this in passing before, but I don’t think I’ve ever really let on just how addicted to the infertility blog community I have become over the past few years. Pretty much around the time Paul and I got engaged. I did not need to be psychic to know that this probably wasn’t going to go for us the way it does for a “normal” couple.

One thing that has always jumped out at me is how painful other people’s happiness has become to the majority of these women, at least in relation to the subject of procreation. I admit it, I kind of judged them at first (okay, maybe a part of me still does) because that’s such a jerk move right? After all, this isn’t some zero-sum game, a baby for someone else doesn’t take away from your ability to have one too.

But, while I still don’t agree with the ones who insist on calling every woman that has the audacity to get pregnant a “smug b*tch,” I am starting to realize that the reason it has always bugged me so much is that I kind of get them and I’m scared to death of that becoming my reality too.

A few days after my nephrologist told me it would probably be better if I never got pregnant one of my best friends in the world shared with me that she was pregnant. I was almost shocked at how truly excited and happy for her I felt, how joyful, because honestly after reading all these blogs for so long I really didn’t know how I would be reacting deep down inside. I was afraid that dealing with my own struggles would make me unable to feel 100% happy for someone else.

I can’t say what will happen if the years keep passing and Paul and I make no progress towards growing our own family, but for now I’m actually fine with the pregnancy announcements (three so far) and hanging out with our friends children and I still genuinely enjoy talking to people about their babies, pregnancies, etc. It’s actually really bizarre, but it’s the random adorable little families or pregnant bellies that make me jealous and kind of upset.

Except the other day, Paul hit me with a double whammy – his childhood best friend (the one who bailed on being a groomsmen the WEEK of our wedding, did I ever tell that story here?) had knocked up some chick and had just become a father. I knew without asking that he had not married her and I haven’t confirmed this but if I had to guess, I’d say the girl is probably on the younger side (probably just a year or two north of legal is my educated opinion). This is a guy who once had a conversation with me about why a man might decide to get married and have kids knowing full well he will not be faithful to his wife (“Because he wants the kids and the woman at home to raise them!”).

Sigh.

For some reason, that one hurt. I could feel myself tearing up. In my new seat. At work. With a desk full of men. Yeah, as a woman in a man’s world, you generally want to avoid crying (and talking about your period) at all costs. So I did manage to pull myself together in a few quick seconds but it still irritates the crap out of me when I think that HE is a father already and who knows when Paul will be one.

And I hate that I feel this way, because I actually don’t dislike the guy. Sure, I may think he’s a bit of a sleazeball (let’s put it this way, I wouldn’t want him dating my sister) but he’s always been nice and respectful towards me (except flaking on the wedding). And I think Paul actually feels more “brotherly” towards him than his actual brother, so I guess that makes him like a pseudo-brother-in-law.

Like I said, I know that in reality I have no reason to feel upset over the pregnancy-birth announcement. On a rational level I know that I am being a huge asshole and should probably quit moping over it and send a gift or at least acknowledge that the birth of a child who even if unplanned, is wanted and loved, is a GOOD thing. But on an emotional level? I just can’t quit feeling sorry for myself and kind of hating him. Just a little bit.