We’ve been trying for two years, and I knew this day would come. It was only a matter of time.
We’ve been lapped.
My friend and former boss, who got pregnant with baby #1 a few months after we started trying, announced on Facebook last night that baby #2 is due on October 16.
I can’t say this surprised me. She always said she wanted a big family and I heard through mutual friends several months back that she and her husband were thinking about trying again.
So at first, her pregnancy announcement didn’t elicit anger.
Instead, after a few minutes of reflection, it reminded me that I had forgotten to take my medication with dinner.
That’s when I got angry.
My mom watched me as I opened the kitchen cabinet and took out three pill bottles. One by one I slammed them on the counter with force:
“First, I get to take the Femara, so my stupid, lazy ovaries will get off their ass an DO something!”
“THEN, I will take my prenatal vitamins. The same stupid purple pills that I’ve been taking for TWO YEARS, and do you know what they do? Nothing. They only make me cry every time I go to a new doctor, he or she sees it on my medication list and then asks, ‘Are you pregnant?’ Um, no, I’m not. But thanks a lot for bringing it up!”
“And finally, I’ll take my Lexapro so I don't jump off a bridge because, after two years, I'm still barren.
So while Mrs. Fertile basked in the glow radiated by her super-fertile uterus, I opened each pill bottle, took out my dosage, swallowed them one by one, and quietly placed the bottles back into the cabinet.
My mom just stared at me. The only thing I could muster before leaving the room was,
“Things were not supposed to be this way.”