The mile high club? Yeah, no.

We leave tonight on our 2 week vacation to Iceland & France.  So excited!  However, today is also CD 11 which means ovulation (of a crappy egg) is imminent in the next 24-48 hrs.  DH suggested we join the mile high club as maybe being @ 30,000 feet the differences in the atmosphere would do what no RE seemingly can: make us pregnant.  With us both being obese we'd have to pretty much defy the law of physics to do it in the cramped airplane bathroom.  I'm not about to do it in our seats either; too much risk of being noticed & thrown in a European prison.  I promised him plenty of French wine-induced sex though so hopefully that'll make him happy even though I know it won't give us the ultimate souvenir: a baby.

A day I may never get to celebrate

So, here we are.  Another Mother's Day.  Every show on tv is moms & their babies or kids.  Every post on Facebook has pictures of the gifts family & friends got from their children.  I had to explain to my husband we can't go out to our favorite weekend breakfast place today because it will likely be overcrowded & filled with small children & babies which means I won't be able to handle being there.  I'm debating seeing a matinee of "The Avengers" because I'm not sure if it'll be a "safe place" to be today or not.

My sister's baby shower was also yesterday.  I did not go.  She understands thankfully.  She knows she is not the reason I did not attend.  I didn't go because seeing all the baby items & the 6 children there under the age of 2 would set me off into a sobbing mess.  And I didn't want to end up being the focus of the day by being the "poor, barren sister" crying in the corner.

My sister has not let this pregnancy change her @ all.  If it wasn't for the huge belly you'd never know she was pregnant; she's still a nut & I love her for it.  Ever see "Miss Congeniality"?  My sister is the Sandra Bullock character in that movie: absolutely gorgeous but able to kill you with her bare hands if necessary.  This kid in her ute has no idea what a ride he's in for!

When I woke up this morning the 1st thing I did after I peed is took the dog outside to do the same.  I came back in, poured myself some cereal & coffee, then sat @ the laptop to post this.  Hubby got up & came into the room a few minutes later.  He gave me a hug & didn't say a word.  I cried.  I knew; neither of us needed to say anything to acknowledge the elephant in the room.  If our IVF had worked I'd be about 17 weeks along now.  If the chemical pregnancy I had almost 3 years had been carried to term I would have a 2 year old by now & hopefully be pregnant with another.  Instead, I have nothing.  And I don't know if I'll ever have anyone tell me "I love you mom".  Fucking depressing.  I don't know if I can handle another post like this next year.  Why does it have to be so hard?

INFRTL

It's hard to see, but trust me when I tell you the license plate on the car says "FERTIL".  I was tempted to follow them & ask for the back story but I'd rather not get shot (this was in a sketchy part of Providence) so I didn't.  Now I kind of want a vanity plate too, except mine would be "INFRTL", since you're limited to 6 characters in my state.

"Any chance you could be pregnant?"

"Any chance you could be pregnant?"

This phrase was uttered to me 4 times in 4 hours on Friday night after I got sideswiped on the way home from work.  I'm ok; just a bit sore.  Of course it was a giant fvcking SUV that hit my itty bitty Hyundai Elantra so there's now a huge dent/scratches the length of my passanger side.  So tomorrow I have to get the police report & deal with insurance.  The car is drivable thankfully but I'm soooo very pissed I have to deal with this during finals week & just before we're going on vacation on another continent.

The 1st time I was asked if I could be pregnant was when the EMTs were loading me into the ambulance.  I told them I doubted it.  The 2nd time was the triage nurse in the ER.  I laughed & told her I was a 4 year infertile with multiple failed treatment cycles.  She offered to do a blood test since they would be taking x-rays but I said no thanks, I've seen enough negative pregnancy tests for several lifetimes.  The 3rd time the doctor who reviewed my x-rays & prescribed my pain meds was the one doing the asking.  I told him he'd probably get pregnant before me & he looked confused but didn't ask any more questions.  The final person to ask about the state of my ute was the pharmacist who filled the pain meds.  I snarkily told him I was expecting quads, took my pills & went home.

Thanks, universe, for another reminder of what I will likely never have.

The art of appropriate small talk (infertile edition)

So I was @ the grocery store yesterday waiting in line with my sugar-free, calorie-free, fruit flavored, carbonated water (not important what it was really, but I live on it, so there) when the woman in front of me turned around & started talking to me @ random.  Weird, right?  Yeah, well, she also is one of those "stealth pregnant" women who long perfectly normal from the back & then BAM!  Pregnant belly right under your nose when they turn around.

Anywho, she continues her randomness & says to me "OMG my feet hurt; I'm sooooo huge!".  I probably looked like a dear in headlights @ this point.  I just smiled & waited for her to continue gracing me with her wit & wisdom.  Thankfully, the cashier intervened @ this point & told her she was next so put the basket on the belt since she wasn't paying attention (shocker).  I really wanted to slap her across the face & tell her I'd love to have tired feet from a pregnancy right about now.

Seriously?  Whatever happened to conversations about the weather or how much the Red Sox are sucking?  What's wrong with nice, neutral, happy subjects that don't involve reproduction?  Is please to be remembering the douchecanoe @ the pizza parlor who complained about how much it cost to feed his 5 kids just after my failed IVF.  Moreover, who are these people?  And why do they all seem to gravitate towards me?  

The art of small talk is obviously dead.