When you desperately want to have a baby, you have a lot of private thoughts that you’d rather not share with the world. Your best friend doesn’t need to know that you sobbed in a public bathroom after she told you she was pregnant (and those weren’t tears of happiness). Your husband doesn’t need to know that you’ve actually touched your own cervical mucus; and your pregnant Facebook friend doesn’t need to know that you’ve hidden her so you don’t have to see her growing belly photos. Here’s a few of my own infertility confessions. Because, even though it’s a horrible, crappy situation, laughter is always the best medicine.
**Whether it’s tampons or those very stylish maxi pads, I always convince myself that this will be the LAST box of feminine hygiene products I will ever purchase. Well, maybe not ever, but at least for the next, oh, 9 months or so. When going to the drug store, I can be found cursing in the feminine hygiene aisle. “I can’t believe I have to buy another stupid box of tampons.” So I do the only rational thing an infertile can do, I purchase the smallest box of tampons I can find. None of those family sized feminine hygiene products for me! I buy the bare minimum. After all, this is the LAST time I will ever get my period so I won’t need them anymore. Yeah, right.
The next month, the evil witch returns and I end up tearing my bathroom apart because I can’t find a single feminine product to wear. And good luck if it starts away from home…I have nothing in my purse, and I end up stuffing toilet paper in my panties. Great, another pair of stained underwear! Infertility has appointed me the President of the Soiled Underwear Club. I might as well get all my panties at the dollar store at this rate. I would rather stuff toilet paper in my underwear for the next 7 days, than buy another box of pads or tampons. Want to find out if a woman is having infertility problems? Go to your local drug store. She will be in the feminine aisle sobbing over a box of lady products…
It’s a sad but true story.
**I am always relieved when I see another woman carry a tampon into a bathroom stall, or when I hear that packaging crinkling and unwrapping from the stall next to me. “Yay, she’s not pregnant!!” There are always a million pregnant women all around me, but I’ve just found one who is not! Of course, she’s not even trying, and once she does she’ll get pregnant immediately, but for now, she’s dealing with Aunt Flo just like I am!
**I find myself giving bad baby name advice because I’m scared that all the good names will be gone before I actually get to have a baby. Someone tells me the great news---they’re pregnant. I try really hard to be happy for her and not bitter like I usually am. Somewhere deep down, I’m trying to make small talk about the baby-to-be and ask, “so have you thought of any names yet?” I’ve nailed down firm names for my first 3 boys and 5 girls that haven’t materialized yet – What if someone takes something off of my list? So I start giving really bad baby name advice – just picking the ones that are the furthest away from anything that I’d ever choose. “Oh sure,” I say, “I looooooove the name Bertha. So soft, so delicate. And Ursula doesn’t remind me at all of that horrible witch that tried to kill the little mermaid. What was that last one? What? HOW do you spell that? Oh sure, that sounds FABULOUS! I really think you should go with that one… that you just said… that I can’t pronounce…
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