The Missionary Position

I had dinner with a friend of mine this weekend who knows that we’re trying to have a baby, but doesn’t know the extent of what we’ve been going through. The only reason she knows, actually is because the last time a group of us were together, I happened to mention I had an acupuncture appointment and another friend asked what it was for.

Annoying aside: When I decided to be honest and answered, “infertility” the friend who’d pried said, “Yeah, that’s what I figured.” WHAT? Why? Is there a big red I on my forehead? Are you able to detect withered old lady insides just by looking at me? Shut it! I was so confused and mostly pissed. How dare she make a (correct) judgment about me! Mostly, how dare she admit to making said (correct) judgment? Argh.

Ok, back to the topic at hand. So, we were having a very nice dinner. Sushi and cucumber gimlets and lots of laughs. My friend tells me that she and her new husband (since June) talking about trying to “reproduce.” She goes on and on about how they’re waiting until such and such month because his business has a very distinct busy season and they want to time it just right to miss it.

Oh my god! Why didn’t we think of timing it this way? Let’s see, if start trying in 2003, then we should be able to go through the year or so of ignorant attempts, all the requisite tests, treatments, heartache, emotional psychodrama and of course the hot flashes and then deliver sometime in early to mid 2008. Sweet! Planning is fun.

Back to my delusional friend… After I choked on my dragon roll, I had to pause. Part of me wanted to laugh at her obvious ignorance, but another part wanted to cry. Because you know what? That bitch (she won’t mind) will probably do it. Go off the pill, light a candle, dim the lights and BAM...BFP.

This is where the Missionary bit comes in. I hope it came out more smoothly than I remember, but I think the first thing I said, after, “Yay, that’s great!” was “I’m doing IVF.” I think I might have Infertourrettes. I wish this wasn’t so, but I said it to scare her. Like, “Your planning is cute and all, but get real. You’re 33, not 23, you're 6 feet tall and weigh a measly 110 pounds (see? Bitch!) and it’s not going to be as easy as you think.”

This happens to me a lot. I feel the need to use myself as an example to spread the word that getting pregnant is not easy. It seems like every book I read or website I check out is chock full of information that would have been so much more helpful a few years ago. I recently foisted Taking Charge of Your Fertility on a friend who had told me she and her husband are just thinking about trying. Does this happen to anyone else? If so, I found a great new shopping site. :) I just feel like I want my friends to know all the things I didn’t.

Of course this could backfire if my preaching actually gets through to them and they get knocked up before I do. Hmmm…maybe I should shut up.