I went to Target yesterday. With a big list. Toothpaste, contact solution, toilette papier, lightbulbs, Advil...pregnancy tests. No need, of course, for pregnancy tests right now but I will need them in a couple of weeks after my FET. I'm going to learn about the yes or no right here at my home turf, thank you very much. I'm doing this as much for my fellow infertiles at the clinic as for me. It wasn't pretty last November.
Checkout at Target. Toothpaste. Scanned. Contact Solution. Scanned. Pregnancy tests. Scanner: "Oh, honey are you pregnant?"
Me: blink. "No."
Scanner: "Oh, are you buying this for a friend?"
Me. blink, blink. "No."
Silence. Standoff. Resume scanning.
What a dumb thing to ask a perfect stranger. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. It was wildly insensitive and hugely inappropriate. I immediately mounted my moral high horse. I would never be so insensitive and callous and .... Except, I have been. Recently. Not too long ago, a co-worker was showing me pictures of her two year old. She was proud that she got her daughter to sit down and allow a picture to be taken of her in her birthday finery. And I said, "I love her little birthday mullet." I really said that. Instead of gushing about how cute she looked, I focused in on a two year old's hair. Silence. It was an insensitive, thoughtless thing to say and I meant absolutely nothing by it. I just said the wrong thing.
And it got me thinking. Am I beginning to define myself by my infertility? Lately, I'm far more likely to focus on the insensitive things others have said in passing than the many gifts of friendship I've received. I turn rabid every time I hear "When you have children..." or "you'll know when you have children." Yet, 9/10 times the people saying these things have no idea about my situation. And the remaining 1/10 isn't just trying to stick it to the infertile. Though I have confided in very few people, by damn, I expect everyone to be sensitive enough to, well, consider every single life event I could possibly be going through and simply stop saying stupid things. I'm a tender flower, you know.
What it really boils down to is that feeling sorry for myself is becoming too much of a commitment. I'm spending inordinate amounts of time and energy walking on eggshells around me. Lordy, I'm no fun to be around anymore.
Bring me the smelling salts.