The airing of grievances

Disclaimer: The Airing of Grievances, like traditional venting, doesn't have to be a well-constructed diatribe; any diatribe will do.  Even this one.

For Christmas, my MIL got each of her kids a copy of Jon Stewart's Earth (The Book): A Visitor's Guide to the Human Race, and I've been reading it just about every day.  Jon Stewart is a pretty funny guy and the book is very entertaining, as well as mildly informative.  As I read it I'm reminded of things I learned in middle and high school school science classes, and then I giggle at his sarcastic comments and think, "If an alien did happen get their hands on this book after the human race was wiped out, it would never understand these jokes and would probably think we were really freaking stupid."  But I digress.  ...Already.

Anywho.

The other night I got to the section on "life," and there's a list of the scientific criteria required for an object to be considered alive.  I know you still have them memorized from 7th grade, but just in case you missed class that day, they are: Organization, Homeostasis, Metabolism, Growth, Response to stimuli, and Reproduction.  And now you can guess where I'm going with this.

Lately I've been stewing thoughtfully pondering the common perceptions many people have about infertility and ART.  So, in the grand tradition of Festivus (which I realize I'm a week late for), I give you my Airing of Grievances. 

Thankfully I don't see very much of this in real life, but I can't even describe how sick it makes me when I see ignorant comments on online infertility articles saying stuff like,

•  "Infertility is God's/nature's way of controlling the population,"
• "Obviously there's a reason you're infertile, quit being selfish - stop trying to conceive your child and (just) adopt," and,
• "You're being pretty dramatic, so what if you can't have kids?  It's not like you need to!  I don't have kids and I'm perfectly happy about it!" 

You all know what I'm talking about, you've seen the comments and know I'm just scratching the surface of the idiocy that's out there.  And if you don't, please see Exhibit A.

So when I'm reminded that one of the basic criteria required just to be considered ALIVE is the ability to reproduce, my jaw drops that so many people think infertility is no big deal.  Or that it's some kind of punishment.  Or that there's some deeper reason for it that somehow benefits the rest of the world (i.e. population control).  Or particularly that any reaction to discovering you're infertile besides simply and quietly accepting it, stop trying to conceive, and adopting a child instead, is selfish and egotistical.

Well guess what?  It's not selfish or egotistical to have the desire to reproduce.  It's LIFE.  Life wants to continue and it tends to do whatever it can to survive.  Remember that line from Jurassic Park, "Life finds a way?"  It's true.  Seriously, just think about your garden - you work hard to keep it pretty, tearing out weeds like crazy, but no matter how weed-free you manage to get it those damn weeds are always going to find their way back in there.  It's what they do, and that's just plants!  Animals, and certainly humans are also wired to perpetuate their species and keep living.  I believe that a desire to create genetic offspring is evidence of that.  And I believe that desire, for many if not most of us, goes right to the core of our humanity.  Which is why those of us unable to act on it feel like the very foundation of our lives is shaken, damaged, or sometimes irreparably broken.

So to anyone who still believes that infertility is anything other than a disease or malfunction of the human body that Infertiles have every right to treat however they damn well please, to quote Frank Costanza, "I got a lot of problems with you people!"  And I respectfully request that you immediately cease and desist with your self-righteous, know-it-all, judgmental, and often downright mean (and even more often downright stupid) assertions.  We don't need any more proof than we already have that the wrong people were "chosen" to be infertile.

:P

Bitter Infertile on board!

WARNING: This is a rant about child-centric automobile adornments.  If you happen to have child-centric adornments on your car, please know that I still love you and it's not my intention to offend you.  Even my siblings have some of this crap on their cars and I still speak to them. ;)

As I was pulling into the parking lot at work this morning I was behind a guy with a license plate that read "2X A DAD."  I immediately scoffed.  For one, my personal opinion is that vanity plates are a waste of money, but I can appreciate a funny or cute one.  For example there's someone driving around with a plate that says "GR8YTB8."  The guy is a surfer.  Get it?  Great White Bait!  I think that's clever.  But the people living in the town where I work tend to be long on excess funds and short on imagination, so it's rare I see a vanity plate that doesn't come across as, well, vain.  Or superior.  (A couple other regulars I see are: "heart R HI IQ" on a Smart car, and "MY 60MPG" on a Prius.  Yes, we get it, you get good gas mileage.  I still don't think it's particularly "smart" to drive around in a car the size and sturdiness of an aluminum can.)

For two, I'm just getting so tired of seeing automobiles slathered in advertisements about the driver's offspring and fertility.  Look, I get that they're proud of their kids, I'd be proud of mine too if I had any, but it's just so over the top.  And guess what?  90% of the population can have kids, so procreating is not exactly a notable achievement, Mr. 2X A DAD.  You had sex and children are often the result of that.  I'm happy you're doing a good job raising your kids, but I'm sure you'll excuse me if I don't pull my car over and applaud you for it.  Did my grandma drive around with a sign that said "9X A MOM?"  No she did not, and raising 9 kids is a helluva lot more impressive than your two.  It's your job to raise them to the best of your ability, not a special talent worthy of sharing with the world.

For three (and let's be honest here - this is obviously the main reason I scoffed), it's a well-established fact that I'm a bitter Infertile and sarcasm and scoffing are like second languages to me.

So how many different ways do parents pat themselves on the back (or bumper) for rearing their kids?  Let's count.  Besides the cheesy license plates, there's...

1. Stick-figure family decals, sometimes even including everyone's names, as if the parents have never seen an after school special warning kids not to tell strangers their names in case the stranger is a predator.  I can't stand those stickers.  There was one time, though, when I saw a car with just a male stick figure and a female stick figure clinking wine glasses and my heart surged with joy!  I would totally get something like that.

2. Bumper stickers - and not just the ones that say "My child is an honor student at fill-in-the-blank school," (please, is every kid an honor student these days? Those things are everywhere!) but other super clever ones like the "Got Twins?" sticker I'm always ending up behind on my way out of my neighborhood.  Sigh.  A. No, I don't "got twins," but I do got endo!  And B. Though the "Got Milk?" ad campaign was decent for its time, it's now stale and cliche.  Can we please agree to retire it?

3. The "baby on board" window signs.  I don't quite understand the purpose of these.  Are they supposed to make me drive slower?  Be more careful than usual?  Because I was totally going to rear-end someone this one time just for giggles, but I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw that sign stuck on their rear window.  Or maybe it's an advertisement targeted at Infertiles who are in the market for free unwanted babies?  If that's the case I might change my mind about this one.

4. Personalized license plate frames.  I especially loathe the ones that "keep score."  You know the ones I'm talking about, "Mom's scoreboard: Girls 2, Boys 1."  (Or if you're the Duggars: Girls 243, Boys 198.)  I'd like to get one that says, "Infertile's scoreboard: Beers 6, Martinis 3," but that might attract the wrong kind of attention... the kind with blue and red lights and sirens.

Hmm... well that's all I can think of.  One day I will have a kid and maybe this stuff won't annoy me anymore, but for now I might as well have fun with it!

Bad hair day

There is a woman that works here who has no tact at all. (Okay, there are actually LOTS of women who work here that have no tact at all, but today we'll just focus on the one.)

When my then-cube-neighbor (now minion) first got pregnant last year, this woman, R, would come over and talk to her ALL. THE. TIME. about her pregnancy. And she would relate stories about her pregnancies. Regularly and at length. As often as possible, I would leave my desk to try to avoid these conversations, which R sometimes tried to draw me into. R enjoys being the center of attention, you see.

At one point R asked me when I was going to have kids. (I guess she felt like that was an appropriate question for a work acquaintance because one of her kids was in hubs's class growing up. So that means she and I are "tight.") My cube-neighbor, knowing about my situation, very nicely told R that we have been dealing with IF. R's response was extremely wise and thoughtful. She said, "Just relax and it will happen!" And then she followed that wisom of the ages up with, "I'm such a Fertile Myrtle, my husband would just look at me and I'd get pregnant!!" That's when I blatantly stopped listening and went back to work.

Now R is apparently going to be a grandma. I know because I've overheard her tell no less than 8 people that her son's girlfriend (wife?) just took a "pee-pee test." (How can I even begin to explain how much I loathe the term "pee-pee" used among adults??) The poor girl hasn't even been to the doctor yet and R is telling the entire bank the news. I don't envy her the mother-in-law she has to deal with.

Anyway, that was how I ended the day yesterday and began the day today. Okay, well, actually I began the day as a Kitty sandwich, wedged between Aaron and Atticus in bed, with an insanely stiff and sore neck, then my blow-dryer crapped out on me AFTER I'd already put product in my hair, and then there was an accident on my way to work so I was late. But not long after that I was subjected to the high-pitched squeals of coworkers as R shared "her" news with half the office.

I'll just thank my lucky stars that my MIL and mom are not like her. And now I'm going to try to put on a happy face because it's FRIDAY and it's a three day weekend!

Stupid work drama

Do I have a sign on me that says, "Throw me under the bus" or something?

I try to fly under the radar at work. I stay on top of things, I'm prompt with answering requests from customers and other departments... So why am I the target for every snarky bitch in the bank lately?

Today was the second time this week someone got their panties in a bunch and decided to blame me for stuff that wasn't my fault AND try to make me look bad in front of my boss. Luckily my boss, as much as she tends to jump to conclusions, usually backs up her employees.

I just hate dealing with people like that, and it seems like there's a high concentration of them at this company. Oddly enough, almost all of them are women. Hmm, go figure.

I need a good idea for a business so I can go off on my own and not have to deal with this BS anymore! Sigh...

SMACK

Ugh. People are so RUDE. I work in a city that fancies itself to be, well, fancy. It's a pretty high-end area, while the area I live in and grew up in is mostly blue-collar. But you know what? Money can't buy class, and the people here prove that to me on a daily basis.

I thought I posted about this one earlier, but I couldn't find it, so I apologize if this is redundant. But a few weeks ago I left work a few minutes early to go get a hair cut. I was wearing a suit that day and changed into jeans and tennies before I left. I go down to the lobby carrying my suit and work shoes and there are 2 women standing by the front door. As I walk towards them they stop talking and look at me. So I smile - that is what normal people do, right? Usually you get a smile back and then the stare-ers go back to their conversation. NOPE. They keep staring, and not cracking a smile. So I keep on smiling and staring right back at them, even as I am walking past them and out the door. AMAZING. These womene were in their late 40's or 50's so you think they would know better! I guess jeans and tennies are a no-no in a professional building in this town, even if you're on your way out the door and carrying a suit, and it's obvious you WORK there.

Skip to today, I am standing in line at T.aco B.ell and this girl, probably in her early twenties, is standing in line next to me holding a little girl in her arms. And I smell mint. In T.ACO B.ELL! Come on, you can smell T. B.ell as you drive by, it really should be able to drown out just about any other smell when you're standing inside! Then I hear the smacking. CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP. I'm thinking, please tell me it's the kid... Oh no - like a teenybopper this twenty-something chick is smacking her gum, loudly and with her mouth wide. freaking. open. This is why I am enveloped in a cloud of mint. Because she is standing 1 foot away from me (in my bubble) and breathing Wrigley's all up in my space. I was so grossed out, I almost couldn't eat my bean burrito... Almost.

Anyway, just had to get that out before I head off to the gyno to talk about my sub-fertile girl parts. Woohoo! :P

Boo hoo

I hate Mondays. How generic is that? Everyone hates Mondays. Nonetheless, I am one of those generic everyones, and today is one of those crummy Mondays.

Actually there's nothing inherently wrong with today. I have enough work to do, I have friends emailing me when I need a break, people are in a good mood around me. (Except my 3 months pregnant desk neighbor who is feeling irritable, but she gets a pass.) So what's my problem? I guess I'm just preemptively sad that the hubs is going out of town with the guys from Wednesday to Sunday. They're off to Tahoe for a bachelor party, and I'm left all alone. Well, okay, not ALL alone, I do have Atticus Archimedes Aloysius, who will gladly take the hubs' spot on the bed. But you know what I mean. I'm just going to miss him. I've been making plans with friends for while he's gone, but it doesn't change the fact that I'll still have to come home to an empty house for 4 nights. Sigh... I'm such a baby.

It doesn't help that my first appointment with the gyn is on Wednesday too. We've only talked to our GP about infertility so far, and she's the one who sent me out for the pelvic ultrasound and the hubs out for the SA. So this is kind of our first step of the NEXT part of our babymaking journey, and a big deal to me. Now I'm really feeling infertile. But I'll get home from that and have just a couple hours with hubs until he leaves. Ugh.

Well maybe, just maybe I will get some new invitation designs done this week, or at least my sister's... Who am I kidding? I'll probably take my friend KP's advice and rent the first season of Gossip Girl and spend the whole four days on the couch!