A Test of Strength

Well I just know you are all dying to hear about how my party went on Saturday, and whether I was able to play nice with the fertiles. Well, this story won’t disappoint, but I have to keep it quick. (So hard for me; you know I’m wordy.)

It all started beautifully. We arrived first at the party and were greeted by the hosts, a married couple that has declared they will remain childless. The husband of this pair is my husband’s best friend, the adoptee #3 mentioned in an earlier post:
Thoughts on Adoption

The next couple to show up were two people just starting to date, also childless, and very fun. A few singles rolled in, and we were having a good time talking and catching up, with no hint of baby talk anywhere.

Then the first couple with an infant showed up, and I was in a good mood and honestly happy to see them. They are nice people, and I met their baby before our diagnosis. (I find I’m much more at peace with babies I knew before the big kink IF put in my life.)

Then the second couple with an infant showed up, and my mood started to waiver. This couple had gotten pregnant again accidentally only 4 months after the birth of their first son. Mom, now 7 months pregnant and ready to pop, was wearing a halter top with no bra and had her huge belly sticking out of some grungy sweat-shorts (I shall refer to her as Bra-less). It was a nasty sight. We got to hear Bra-less loudly yack about the inconvenience of the unplanned pregnancy, and I was proud of myself for not throwing up, or even feeling nauseous. No matter how much IF sucks, I take comfort that I will never be as clueless as Bra-less. I felt strong that I could watch the babies without getting teary eyed, even though I had just had my first shot of Lupron earlier that morning.

No friends, it wasn’t until later, when H and I became isolated with the “with child” couples that I was truly tested. The host divided us into 2 groups to go sailing on his father’s sailboat, because there was not room for us all on the boat at once. I guess thinking we were next to hop on the baby train, H’s best friend grouped us with the two fertile couples. The childless and singles all went on the boat, and there we were, two fertile couples and one infertile couple. The guys all went outside, leaving me with the moms and the babies.

The moms proceed to tell me to be VERY careful after I have my first baby, because it’s so easy to get pregnant with your second. They went on and on about how Bra-less had practically padlocked her cooter and the dang sperm still found a way in to impregnate her, resourceful little buggers. To quote Motel Manager's blog, "Too Much I Say!"

I was so close to lifting up my shirt and showing my own belly with its big Lupron bruise, but I held back. You would have been so proud.

The worst part of it was that I couldn’t even have a drink.

H and I left shortly afterwards, never making it on to the sailboat ourselves. We stopped at a historic district along the Eastern Shore on our way home and had dinner in a cute, trendy restaurant where everybody was 40 and over and no babies were in sight. That was the best part of the day, just chilling with H and enjoying the restaurant’s atmosphere, even if we did keep eyeing the wine bar longingly.

See, told you I wouldn’t be able to keep this short.