For Memorial Day Brian, his brothers, their wives and the best man in our wedding, Dave and his wife Shelley all went to Don and Margrit’s new house for a cook out. It was a genuinely good day. It was the stuff of Memorial Day legends are made of. Lots of fun, lots of food, lots of quality time, lots of good conversation.
After eating the oh so manly men ended up in the living room watching some sporting event and the ladies were outside enjoying the gorgeous weather and talking like ladies have a tendency to do.
After struggling with infertility Shelley is pregnant.
I’m dealing with infertility.
BIL/SIL numero uno are thinking about trying to get pregnant.
Naturally, we had lots of questions.
Shelley was very open and willing to share their experiences and heartbreaks with infertility and their extreme joy in finally getting pregnant.
Shelley, SIL and I sat and talked about all our infertility woes, the heartbreak of one line on the pregnancy test, all the meds, the doctor’s appointments, PMS and a whole host of other female things for I don’t even know how long. I learned a lot. I felt like I bonded with them. It gave me hope to know that an infertility diagnosis can have a happy ending.
SIL number 2 didn’t exactly feel the same way.
When it was just the two of us, SIL 2 made a comment that really irritated me.
Really IRRITATES me.
I just can’t let it go.
I might be oversensitive. Might and oversensitive may be understatements. The comment was about how much she hated hearing the vagina monologues. How we should just get over it. How it makes her feel weird.
probable potential hypersensitivity, I should not be made to feel ashamed or feel badly about what is going on with my body.
Infertility is a prettttty significant part of my life right now. My diagnosis isn’t just about ability to have or not have biological children. It affects (Effects? I never flipping know…) so much more than my lady bits. I will forever be on medication to regulate hormone and blood glucose levels so I don’t need liver and pancreas transplants in 20 years. I’d say that’s pretty momentous.
Please forgive me for commiserating with two other women dealing with health issues, infertility issues. You can always walk away from a conversation if you don’t particularly care about what being talked about. I CAN’T walk away from my issues. No matter how much I’d like to for a while.
You have the ability, but not the desire (at the moment) to have kids. There’s nothing wrong with that. I certainly don’t fault you for your choices and decisions.
Don’t you dare give me shit for my frustration in the lack of mine.
Okay, rant over.
To all the men, women, children, families and friends that have made the ultimate sacrifice for my freedom, thank you from the very bottom of my heart. You are much stronger than I could ever be.