I asked someone how their baby-making was going; only to highlight how freaking annoying it’s been for the past – 4 months – she’s been messaging me, asking me constantly. I only asked her to inflict some form of
I did not… I repeat… I DID NOT want to know that she was 20 weeks pregnant!
Another person who isn’t in a relationship, gets drunk every night and smashed (very drunk) every weekend, and definitely doesn’t want a baby is… you guessed it… pregnant.
FFS. Fuck both of them.
I am at a point in my TTC journey that is decently unhealthy and definitely not civil. It is ugly and brutal and a god-damn bitch fight.
Yet another associate skipped a meeting telling me “it’s complicated” and that she was “going to hospital”. A small part of me, but a part of me nonetheless, was relieved that she might be having a miscarriage. Let’s not reread that one. I KNOW IT’S A FUCKING BRUTAL THING TO THINK!!
And my husband seems to work at a baby-making factory that doesn’t extend to him. 3 of his colleagues are pregnant. THREE!!
And another dear friend who has heartbreakingly tried for two years is finally pregnant. And I am so over the moon for her! And a tiny bit jealous. But happiness is actually there for this one. Which makes a nice change.
I have been obsessed with being a parent ever since before I had my first doll, Hannah.
I’m using two ovulation-prediction kits this cycle. Whilst still measuring my body temperature and logging my cervical mucous.
I’m intense. I know I’m intense.
I am the person that got into teaching mostly so that I could practice being a mother before I was a mother. So that I could spend money researching children and their growth and development, and get lots of experiences in all sorts of places with said ‘children’… aka teaching.
I have even been on parenting courses… without being a parent… or even pregnant… I THINK I HAVE ISSUES!!
And surgery is not even in this cycle. We have another cycle to wait.
And the exception to my anger is two of my buddies who I know have had an incredibly heartbreaking journey to get that mini-me growing in their bellies. I love both of them. Maybe because I loved them first, and my heart broke when their’s did… I don’t know. I wish that compassion extended to the rest of the world.
But it doesn’t. I’m just super busy hating on everyone else.
I was just certain that I’d be doing a Christmas time reveal. I found the cutest shirts that I’d give my baby’s grandpas and aunties and uncles and cousins. And I’m just not ready to let go of that yet. However delusional it is.
And the comments… that can just fuck off also.
“You’re only young” – correction – I’m younger than you. Doesn’t mean I can’t have a baby.
“It’s really you, you need to be calm” – correction – fuck off.
“It’ll happen, I know it will” – correction – how?! when?! You have all the answers, then answer me!!
What the fuck world.
Why do I keep saying that?
And like… no more pregnancy announcements… unless it’s mine… okay!
Here another gorgeous blogger, Mother of None blog about the same thing right *here*. Sometimes it’s really nice to know that we’re not alone. And that all people TTC are really shitty about all of the other freaking baby announcements. Love your work Mother of None. Completely. Freaking. Get. It. Unfortunately.