And the Fun Continues

The worst part about trying to conceive is the comments you have to hear and listen to. I'm 32, so I'm at the age where most of my friends, especially the younger ones, are beginning to think about babies. It's actually coming up all the time. For someone struggling with IF, it's REALLY uncomfortable. Almost as uncomfortable as when Mr. Later Than Most and I went to see that movie with Vince Vaughn and all those fun couples, oh yeah, Couples' Retreat. That movie was for sure a hit, except for those of us struggling with IF. I would say it hit a little too close to home. I actually remember trying not to cry in the theater.

So, I remember the first "friend" conversation about babies. It was about two years ago. We had already been trying for three months. Then, it felt like an eternity. We were hanging out with MH's BFF and his wife. She started talking about how they were going on a great vacation in 2010 (mind you, this was the middle of 2008). She was beaming with excitement. They were going to go to Jamaica in February of 2010 and they had it "all planned out." Those were her words. . . "all planned out." They were going to get pregnant in February of 2010. Now, by then I had read Taking Charge of Your Fertility, and I knew girls on sites that were struggling with TTC. I sat there and thought, "Wow. You have a lot to learn. Planning the month you'll get pregnant, two years ahead of time. You will probably not even ovulate on your one week Jamaican vacation" She never had to learn or read Taking Charge of Your Fertility. It fucking worked. She got pregnant February 2010. It hurts to even type that. Life can be so unfair.

Big baby conversation number two. . . my friend's bachelorette party. Yes, you read that correctly, my friend's bachelorette party. That's where the next uncomfortable conversation took place. Let me set the scene: It was a destination bachelorette party. A bunch of us girls headed to Michigan for the weekend. We rented a huge house with an indoor pool and were ready to hit-up six wineries on a luxury bus. We all got there on a Friday night and went to a great crab-leg dinner. The martinis were flowing. At this point, I was lucky enough to find out about Amanda. She was another bridesmaid who was at a year mark of TTC. She had just gotten yet another BFN. She and I had a mini IF bond going, thank God. So, dinner was going great until two girls joined is. Friends of ours. One 4 months pregnant and the other was Mrs. Pregnant in February 2010. No one knew about her though. When they showed up, Amanda and I ordered stronger drinks. I remember praying that a baby conversation wouldn't start. So, we all left dinner and went to the house. And that starts the pregnancy talk. Mrs. 4 months along talked about how big she was. She actually called herself a whale. Mind you, she was about 110lbs at 4 months pregnant. Amanda and I started pouring more drinks. At one point we we took pictures of our own selves pretending to hang ourselves. That is my favorite picture of the weekend. Don't judge, we are the first to admit that we are jealous, and when something hurts so much, you have to do what you can to get through it. The spiked tea helped when Mrs. 4 months pulled out her ultrasound pictures. For the love of God, it was midnight and this was a bachelorette party! When we went to bed that night, my roommate asked me, "Melissa, do you and Mr. Later Than Most want kids?" I gave her the half-assed answer. The "go to" answer that requires no explanation. . . "Someday, Jen." Then God tormented me a little. Jen went on, "Do you ever worry that it just won't happen? What if you try to have kids and you can't?" Thanks a lot God. Luckily, Jen fell asleep with a beer in her hand and the questions stopped there.

Last night was probably the hardest for me in the baby conversation department. Mr. Later Than Most and I went to a bbq at a friend's house. It was maybe just six couples. We drank most of the day and we were getting close to going home. We were chilling around the fire and one girl started telling another girl that she wasn't taking her birth control pills anymore. The other girl was all, "ZOMG! Meeee toooooo!" I thought, "Oh shit. Here we go again." Girl number began to tell (right in front of everyone), how she hasn't been on her pill for like 6 months. " We're not trying" she said, "but I'm surprised I'm not pregnant." I was surprised too, considering everyone around me seems to be able to plan this shit out about two years in advance. At this point, the conversation got ugly. In fact, I wanted to call Amanda and see if she could come and help me hang myself for real this time. Girl number one went on, "What if I can't get pregnant? What if I'm THAT GIRL who just can't get pregnant and is infertile. How sucky would that be? Then I'd have to adopt some Asian kid."

Wow, I was that girl. That girl who couldn't get pregnant. I just sat there and hopefully didn't show any emotion. If this girl only knew how much that hurt. That effing hurt. Mr. Later Than Most and I didn't talk it about. We both pretented not to hear it, kinda like when we saw Couples' Retreat.

Ah, just another night in the world of hiding your infertility.