If I have to read about one more celebrity pregnancy, I am going to lose it. Up yours, Gwen Stefani–you 38-year-old, ab-obsessed hussy. Up yours, Angelina Jolie–you cheating homewrecker, posing as a saint. Up yours, Brooke Burke–pushing out your fourth damn kid from that bikini-worthy body at age 36! *sigh* Bitter much, Leah? Why, yes, I am, thank you.
Seriously, though, I don’t know how much longer I can take this insane baby-journey process. I can hear all the words from infertility doctors and others whispering in one ear, saying, “You’re way too old. All your eggs are dead. You’ll need massive interventions to get pregnant at this point. All hope is gone. You’re 37, and you’re screwed.” Then I hear the words of others (including my husband) whispering in the other ear, saying, “You ungrateful wretch, pay attention to the child you’ve got and stop this insane quest. Just be glad you could even have one child. Don’t increase your chances of getting ovarian cancer by taking Clomid or other fertility drugs.” What?! Wha?! Who’s right? What should I do?! Aaargh!
It’s just one of those days. Between this long, cold, dark winter; and the PMS; and the disappointment about the PMS, I’m just about ready to host my own sniveling, self-indulgent pity party, complete with absorbent tissues and maxi-pad party favors. I read somewhere recently that suffering from secondary infertility can feel more isolating and lonely than primary infertility because you feel guilty about being sad, when you have so much and others have none. Yet, none of your friends with two kids can really understand, and you feel too guilty to whine about it much to friends who can’t have any. I don’t know if this is true. I only know that I am the loneliest and saddest I’ve been in a long time. And I feel guilty for saying that, when the world is full of serial killers, and acts of genocide, and tragic car accidents, and miscarriages, and children living in squalor and abject poverty.
Well, on that note, I guess I’ll sign off. Glad I could brighten everyone’s day. Here’s to you, Gwen Stefani. Cheers!
