Only Child Syndrome


Interesting factoid about me; I am an only child. Ok it’s not that interesting. But what is interesting, and rather ironic now that I live in the land of IF, is the fact that I was an accident. At best, I was the accidental product of a casual relationship and an unprotected night, at worst I am the product of a one night stand. My mom and dad worked with each other, so they weren’t just a couple of randoms, but I don’t know that they were a couple. They were young, they worked with a lot of young people, they liked to party, and it was the 80’s. My mom has never outright said that he was her boyfriend, but I don’t think she wants me to think I am the product of a one night stand. I think she’s a bit of an idiot for getting pregnant by accident, but otherwise I’m not overly bothered.

My mom was 28 years old when she had me, so she wasn’t an irresponsible teenager. She had a good job, and even though she found herself pregnant out of wedlock, which in that time raised some eyebrows, she knew she wanted me, it wasn’t a question. She told my dad, but he isn’t actually from here, so he went back home to B.C. and my mom became a single parent. Every year at my birthday she loves to regale me with the story of when I was born. My god mom (my mom’s best friend) was her birth coach, and when I came out my mom proclaimed, “I got my baby girl”. She was a proud mama, and supported by all of her friends, family and coworkers.

So, that is part of the reason I don’t talk to my mom about my IF struggles, is because there is no way she could understand. And I may have actually said to her (speaking about a friend of mine), “I don’t understand how someone can get accidentally pregnant?!”. Oops, forgot who I was talking to. I think this makes her feel worse, that I was an accident, and now her accident can’t procreate even under normal circumstances, let alone on a fluke.

My mom never got married, so it was always just her and I. I had a very awkward relationship with my dad. I talked to him around my birthday and holidays. I went to visit him twice, once when I was 4 and once when I was around 13. We didn’t have a real father-daughter relationship. It was more like a distant relative, you know that one that you keep in touch with just because they’re your family and they send you a cheque for your birthday and Christmas. Once I was in my late teens contact started to wane, and now it’s been probably 3 or more years since there’s been any contact. I’m sure he still lives in the same address, and my grandma (his mom) probably does to, but I really have nothing to say to these people that I don’t know.

So sometimes people give me a sad face, or say “aw that’s too bad you didn’t have a relationship with your dad”. But to be honest, I don’t really care. I know that may sound harsh, but my parents didn’t choose to have me, and at the time my dad didn’t want to partake, but my mom did so fine, fair enough. When I was younger my mom and I lived in the basement apartment of my Aunt and Uncles’ two level split house, so we spent a lot of time with them and my cousins. My Uncle was the closest thing to a father figure. He taught me how to drive, he helped me with homework, I went to Disneyland with him, my Aunt and my cousins. They are an extension of my immediate family.

Sadly my Uncle passed away suddenly and unexpectedly in October of 2006, I believe he was 43 years old. I don’t have a relationship with my father, but my Uncle was the closest thing to having a dad around. He has two boys, who are like my brothers, and I was his little girl. When he died it was what I would imagine it’s like to lose a parent. I don’t know how I kept breathing when I found out, my body just made me. Even now, it is so hard not having him around. He would have walked me down the aisle at my wedding, but he wasn’t there. I can only say I am glad he got to meet my husband. He died 5 months after J and I started dating, so they didn’t know each other well. J will never know about my Uncle, and what I loved so much about him, but he knows that he is very dear to my heart, and if we ever have a son, our son will bear my Uncles’ name.

Sorry, I digress, I have to wipe away the tears and continue. So, because my mom never married, or found a serious life partner, I never got a sibling. Which again, people sometimes feel bad for me that I have no sibling, or when they find out I am an only child, they say “really?!” like it something shocking. But again, something I never had, so how can I feel like I am missing out? I grew up close to the daughter of my mom’s best friend as we were born mere months apart. My extended family is fairly small, so I’ve always been fairly close with all of my cousins too. I went to sleep overs with friends, and had a normal childhood. I learned to entertain myself, and play alone. Perhaps it’s why I am a bit of an introvert. Looking back I can see how it would have been nice to have someone to grow up with, but when I was a kid I just saw how annoying my friends siblings were.

Now that I am grown and married, I have siblings-in-law, though I realize it’s not the same at all, they are both awesome and annoying to have. Much like I would imagine blood siblings to be. I can also see there is a sibling dynamic that I will never understand, and that I am different because I am an only child. I didn’t realize until I was in a serious relationship with J, but I did suffer a bit from “Only Child Syndrome”. Growing up on my own has made me a bit aloof, and sometimes anti social. And although I like to think of myself as a giving person, I am still working on being less self centred. I still sometimes suck at sharing, and don’t always like to compromise. It wasn’t until I chose to live my life with another person that I gained a clearer perspective into myself.

I’d like to think that I am not one of those stereo typical narcissistic, attention seeking only children people think of when they find out you have no sibling. I feel that because I grew up in a single parent household, it somewhat balanced me out. I’ll admit I was spoiled when I was younger, but as I got older and cost my mom more money I didn’t necessarily get everything I ask for. We moved to a more affluent city when I was in sixth grade, and this put into a harsher perspective that other kids had more than me. It didn’t overly bother me, and I made friends with these other kids despite our different upbringings. I have worked since the age of 15 and paid for everything I wanted, including putting myself through university. So I became independent early on in life and have stayed that way ever since. I even have a hard time giving some things over to J, because I usually want to do everything for myself.

Since we’ve started (in)fertility treatments, we’re realizing we may not have, or want to pursue having more than one child. At first I didn’t have an issue with this. One child is less expensive, then we can devote our full attention to raising that one child right. But I can see the effect it’s had on me, while not all bad, it would be nice to have two children, so that they have each other. It may not be a dilemma I have much say in if my body is going to be this difficult. J told me after our first IUI that if this is what it took, he didn’t want more than one child (he was being a little over dramatic, we had a bad time that day). But it may be the case. Then I have to try and overcome the Only Child Syndrome in my own child. Is it easier since I know the life? Perhaps. But I guess we have to get pregnant with one first. These are the musings I have while waiting, waiting for my time.


Swinging from the branches of my family tree


So Christmas is over…sort of. The big day has come and gone, gifts were exchanged, hugs were given, food was eaten. My in-laws are in the mountains for Christmas, so we are heading down today to do it all over again with them. Yup writing this from the car on the iPad. I figured out how to create a personal hotspot from my phone to get internet on the iPad. Yay me! But no clever ecards from me this time. I’m not that tech savvy.

I love my family, and it is nice when we can all get together for Christmas, see all of my cousins, aunts and uncles (although, not a lot of family on my side either). In the past year and a half 3 of my cousins have gotten married, yet there is still just one baby (well she’s hardly a baby anymore, at 3 1/2 years old) between all of us, and that one belongs to my cousin who was married around 7 years ago.

Their daughter was brought into this world by a surrogate, with my cousins sperm, his wife’s egg and their amazing friends’ uterus. Prior to their miracle baby they had 4 losses, from two singleton pregnancies and one twin pregnancy.

I don’t remember all of the details because I was in my early twenties when this was all going on (and quite frankly babies were the last thing on my mind, and it was all a little out of my scope), but their first baby was born around 5 months, lived for a few days but was just not developed enough to survive. The next two pregnancies were also lost in late in the 2nd trimester. I believe the problem was she had a weakened uterus, and once the baby got too large her body would cause her to deliver early, and the baby/babies couldn’t survive. On the third pregnancy she was on bed rest and they put a stitch in her uterus (I think) but to no avail.

It was after this that they had to find another solution. They were obviously very fertile, as getting pregnant wasn’t the problem. I think it is amazing that her best friend stepped up to do something so selfless, after having 3 children of her own. Now that I am in the infertility trenches I can so much more appreciate how hard that all must have been (even though I’ve never experienced a loss).

Her experience was open to the family, because she made it to the 2nd trimester 3 times, and we all knew about her losses, and it would have been a little hard for her to hide the fact that they used a surrogate (not that they would have wanted to anyways). Their surrogate mama is like a saint to our family. Now, over 3 years later, they have their own little family unit. I think there was talk of them adopting at some point too (a while back), but I think it will just be them and their little girl from now on.

Thing is, my cousin’s wife moved from suffering through infertility to one of those people who the only thing she talks about, or posts on Facebook, or lives for her is child. Once she got her baby, she flipped to the other side. Perhaps because she is so overjoyed to finally have their own little one, which is understandable, but I can imagine it was very hard for her dealing with other peoples babies, and families when she was suffering. So, though it is nice to see her get their happy ending, I know what I don’t want to do when it’s my turn, and avoid slapping the world in the face with my child.

So, anyways, thought I’d share that little snippet of infertility in my family. But back to Christmas dinner with the whole gang. One of my other cousins got married last September and just recently bought a house this year (August, or September maybe?). I have his wife on my Pinterest account, and she’s had a board called “Baby Rabies” for some time, so I know she wants kids, but her job has been sort of unstable, up until recently when she took a new (much better) job. So a couple of days before Christmas J and I were talking about who was coming to dinner, what we were bringing, ect. I said to him that I thought cousin R and his wife L might be pregnant. He asked me why I thought that, and I mentioned her Pinterest board, and the fact that they just bought a house, and have been married for a year. I said I wouldn’t be surprised if they announced it at Christmas (because apparently that’s the thing to do). I think you know where this is going…

I was right. Just before dinner, my Aunt (cousin R’s mom) said she had something she wanted to say, and announced that she was going to be a grandma again. She had a picture frame that had a note in it saying new addition August 2014. Even before she turned the frame around, or the words were out of her mouth I turned to J and gave him “the eyes”. As soon as she made a move to get everyone’s attention I knew what was coming. I had mentioned it to J beforehand, because I had been thinking it for a while, but I needed to say it out loud, so I could say “told ya so”! Though, who cares, I win at predicting someones pregnancy. It’s still not mine.

I love R’s wife, I think she’s lovely, it’s all very nice for them that they are having a baby, yada yada yada, insert all the obligatory nice things I am supposed to say/feel. But after that, I kind of avoided her for the rest of the night. Plus, as soon as the announcement was made I thought “wow, due in August, that’s early to annouce”. I mean, chances are she’ll be fine, have an uneventful pregnancy, and never know to be thankful for that. I also started doing the math, and I figured she would have gotten pregnant right around the time of my failed IUI. Ouch, adding insult to injury.

One of my other cousins is a labor and delivery nurse, she got married this September and commented how she’s tired of being asked about kids already. Tell me about it. Just after this conversation, another one of my cousins comes over and is chatting, and asks me when we are having kids. To which my mom snaps, “didn’t you just hear their conversation about how rude that is!” Ha. Thanks momma bear. I don’t discuss our treatments or anything with her, but she knows of our struggle, and knows I don’t want to talk about it, to her or anyone else.

A lot of my family doesn’t even ask me about kids anymore, they ask where I am planning a trip for next (we travel a lot, and I am a travel agent, so it’s a very valid question). We live the DINK life to the fullest, so I think some might assume we may not even want kids.

I’m not entirely surprised that yet another person has “beaten” me to pregnancy, especially with all of the weddings I’ve attended recently. I’m in that age where all of my friends got married a few years ago, so now all of them have, and are having babies. I just hope I can join the club soon because I don’t want to have to start avoiding my own family…

Peace and goodwill, to all (wo)mankind


Well, the year is almost done, and I bid it good riddance. I can’t say it’s been all bad, in fact there has been a lot of good. But it was 2013 that we hit our 1 year mark of TTC, received an infertility diagnoses and continued to fail at making a baby(ies).

I’ve worked hard at keeping busy (6 trips in 12 months), focusing on J and I (and our pups), and generally just dealing with the hand that we’ve been dealt. I am looking forward to the New Year, even though it’s just a change of the date, it feels like a fresh start. And for us, it sort of will be. I have IUI’s tentatively booked for Jan. 2, 3, and 4 (I’m betting on it being on Jan. 3).

I started my round of clomid last night, and in an unusually optimistic gesture, high fived J before popping it down the hatch. I’m sure I won’t be as upbeat once I am in the dreaded TWW, but all I can do is hope for now.

I’ve noticed more and more lately that Christmas is an excessively family-centric holiday. Obviously I am more hyper aware of it now, but luckily only 1 of my cousins has a child, so Christmas with my family is a grown up affair (though we do carry on like children once we’ve gotten into the Christmas cheer).

I had some friends give me their family Christmas cards the other day (you know the sickeningly sweet ones with them and their kids all posed and dressed up). I thanked my one friend, and said “I don’t really really do Christmas cards”, to which she replied “Oh, well you don’t have kids”. As in, there’s no point if you don’t have a cute little family to share. Grrr. I have dogs, J and I could get all fancied up and take a photo. Christmas is not just for families with kids dammit!

Anywho, that’s my Christmas related rant, but in all fairness I still love Christmas. I am feeling very thankful for my family, and friends, my hubby, my dogs and all the lovlies out in this blogger world of ours. I have lots of visiting, and eating and drinking to enjoy in the next week. In my own twisted way, I am glad not to have to hide a pregnancy at Christmas (though I would have managed if I had to).

2014 will bring big changes, whether in the form of another member being added to our family, or changing our locale. We shall see which wins out. Merry Christmas, Seasons Greetings, and a Happy New Year to you and yours.

Now here’s some spam of ecards I find amusing.





And lastly, my favorite…


My Dirty Little Secret


This is probably something I shouldn’t admit on a blog about trying to have a child. But I don’t like kids. Not really anyways. I mean I love my neices, and my friends kids, but do I want to spend a lot of time with them? Not particularly. Stay with me I promise I’m going somewhere with this.

There was a point in my life that I questioned if I even wanted kids (in the not-so-distant past). J and I weren’t ready to start trying yet, but we always made mention of our future child/children and it got me thinking; do I want kids, or is it just what’s been ingrained into me? Was I just following the traditional order of things, that’s what you do, grow up, get married, have children? I had never stopped to question it until it was bearing down on me. But after giving it a lot of thought, I felt like I would always regret it if I didn’t have a child/children, and J is my perfect man, and I want HIS child/children.

Even still, creating another life, one that you are responsible for and will change you forever is a big and scary thing, so for the first few months of trying, when I would get a negative test or my period would arrive I would have a slight sigh of relief (along with annoyance and frustration). It’s funny how you can want something, but also be scared to have it. After several months of trying though, it made me realise how deeply I do want a child. It has made me hyper aware of moms and moms-to-be and I’m jealous that they have what I want. The sigh of relief has completely faded and the dissapointment grows with each failed cycle.

But back to the fact that I am not a “kid person”. This was another reason I wasn’t really sure I should have kids. How can you want kids, yet not like them? Well, the way I see it, is I just am not a huge fan of other people’s kids. I know I will love and adore my own child/children. How do I know? Well let me tell you a little story, that made me understand a mother’s love.

I have two dogs (I know, I know, before you roll your eyes, I realise dogs are not children) that are my fur babies. Growing up I had a cat, who I loved to death, and I never really was a dog person. The year J and I started dating, him and his brother (who lived together at the time) got a dog. A little, adorable white furball of a thing. He was very cute, and fairly mild mannered so I didn’t mind him, but he wasn’t my dog. Even when J’s brother moved away and left the dog with J and I he still wasn’t really my dog (even though, technically he was now). His master was J (even though we both took care of him) and that’s who he loved the most.

When I still lived at home, my first beloved kitty had to be put down, but my mom and I hated having an empty house with no kitty, so I adopted another (grown) cat. Shortly thereafter I moved in with J and had to leave the cat behind because J is deathly allergic. I had always wanted to get another cat, but with J’s allergies I had to face facts that that wasn’t going to happen. So if I couldn’t have a cat I decided I was going to get myself a little cat-like dog. So after doing tons of research on different breeds, I threw caution to the wind and we adopted a rescue dog of unknown origins. He was just a little guy, but he was only 4 months so we figured he’d get a little bigger, but still small enough to be a lap dog.

Turns out his paperwork was wrong, and he was 9 months old, and fully grown at 9 lbs. This time I truly felt like he was my dog; I had to interview to get him (that’s right folks, I had to submit to a character interview for a dog, yet every day idiots get pregnant by accident). I got to pick his name (well, I changed it from what the rescue society had named him), his bed, his toys, and him. He’s really cute, but a bit funny looking from his mixed breeds (whatever he is). A face only a mother could love, says my mom. Though lots of other people think he’s cute too. His personality wins everyone over (now do I sound like a mom or what!?). We’ve had him for a little over two years now and I could not love the little guy more. He is my baby and I would do anything for him.

But the thing is, I’m still not really a dog person. I am definitely more tolerable of them, and I do think a lot of them are super adorable, but I mostly just like my dog. Dogs are a pretty big responsibility, he is a lot of work, and sometimes he pisses me off but I still love him more everyday. As silly as this sounds it made me realise that if I love a dog this much, I can’t even imagine how it would feel to have my own little person. I think my heart could burst.

So I have my fur babies, and J and I love them dearly, but I still have more love to give.  The thought of parenthood still freaks me out (but seriously, who isn’t nervous for that kind of responsiblity?) but do I want it wholeheartedly? Heck yes. So bring it on Universe. I’m waiting…!

*I use child/children because at this point we might have to stop at just one. If we’re even so lucky.


*This is not me, but I figured the photo capture my sentiment perfectly.

Life’s A Bitch


My best friend and I tell each other everything. She has been my confidante along the way, as I give her all the dirty details of everything that has been going on with us. She had her first child, an adorable little boy, in August 2012, the same month that we started to try to conceive. She has been waiting along with me for my elusive BFP. She has been a great support, listener, and friend. Even though sometimes what I was talking about may have gone over her head as I digressed into acronyms and medical jargon. She never faltered in her support, or kind words. I truly felt she was in it with me.

And then she really was. Some time before her sons 1st birthday, her and her husband decided they wanted another. So again, she ditched the birth control and went back at it. She had had some wonky cycles after her son was born, even once she was back on birth control, so when she came off of it again it did not even out. She ended up having an almost 60 day cycle, in which point she contact her Dr. who agreed that, yes, it was cause for concern.

First we were discussing my infertility, but now we were looking at hers. Her Dr. ordered the standard gambit of tests, and referred her to another Dr. (not sure if it was a RE or OB/GYN) with a recommendation of starting Clomid. I hated that she had to join me in the trenches, even though it would be nice to have someone who truly understood, I could never wish this on anyone.

She knew I had recently seen my RE but we didn’t really get into the details at this point, I was very busy and we hadn’t seen each other in a while. For the first time I didn’t tell her of our impending fertility plans, including the IUI. Not until I had already done it at least. I mentioned to J that it would be very hard to keep this secret from her if it ended up being a pregnancy, as I was going to see her the day AF was due (or not). So he said that he would be ok if I told her if we were pregnant, but would wait to tell everyone else (love this guy). So after this discussion, I turned to my phone to tell her that we had done an IUI, and I should know the results by Nov. 23, a night we just happened to have a movie date.

So I went on my business trip, and managed to make it until 13DPO until I busted out the cheapie internet tests. Stark. White. Faaaack. Ok, wasn’t overly hopefully anyways, moving forward. I text BFF to break the news to her now, instead of tomorrow, because why ruin a perfectly good movie date with shitty news like that. AF showed the next day, so a night out at a sappy movie shovelling junk food into my face sounded awesome!

We meet up, had some idle chit chat, and for once do not discuss TTC (which is a first). We saw About Time, with Rachel McAdams (who I love) which was made by the same people who did Love, Actually (which I also love). But I have to say, not all that impressed. So we start heading out of the theatre, ready to part ways but as we head out the doors BFF stops, and says she has something to tell me, and immediately gets teary. In my gut I knew already. We don’t ever not talk about TTC, and by this point she should have been started on Clomid, and she hadn’t mentioned it at all. She never actually said the words, but she didn’t have to. Her tears told me. She is pregnant.

She didn’t know right away because she was having what she thought was just another really long cycle, but before she called her Dr. again she decided to test, just so she could get it over with and know that it was negative. Except that it wasn’t. And then she was waiting to see me so that she could tell me she was pregnant, and I would tell her that I was too, and it would be amazing. Except that I wasn’t. And so it was most definitely not amazing as I stood comforting my crying friend in the cold night, outside of a movie theatre, because she was pregnant and I wasn’t.

And that is the day I lost my “person”. We recently went out to the mall together, along with her son. It was a bit awkward. We didn’t talk about what was coming down the fertility treatment pipeline for me next. It’s just weird now. She’s 11 weeks pregnant. By the time she found out she was already around 6 weeks, and by the time she told me 8 weeks. As soon as I found out she was pregnant I turned into myself, and ever since I feel like I’ve been drowning in my own thoughts. So that is one of the reasons, I am here, blogging my little heart out. Thanks for listening.


Anonymity & Infertility


Hello out there! I was surprised at how quickly I already gained a few followers, and had some comments on my very first blog post. I had a cooking blog at one point as well, and lemme tell ya, it did not get a lot of traffic. So thanks for those stopping by!

I feel like for the next little while I might be posting (or trying to) everyday, as I’ve had a lot bottled up lately and it’s bursting forward! One of the things I’ve been giving a lot of thought to lately is coming out of the infertility closet. I have a very select few people that even know we are TTC, and I have intentionally kept it that way.

I am a very private person, and this is a very private matter. I did not even want to tell anyone when we started TTC (just in case it took longer, plus I don’t like people thinking about my sex life). I must have some sort of psychic powers, that I saw that one coming. I told my best friend, well, because I tell her everything. We got married the same year, she had her first baby in August 2012 and I lived vicariously through her TTC journey. So she knew the day I threw out the birth control. At that point it was just her (outside of myself and J) that knew, and I liked it that way.

J told his younger brother at some point. His bro and his bro’s wife had their first in Aug. 2011 and were trying for another around the same time, or a little earlier than we had started TTC. J’s brother is a Dr. (in a totally unrelated field, I might add) and had previously succeeded in making children so I think J was maybe looking for some guidance. I was slightly annoyed, but I figured J needed someone to talk to besides me, so fine.

He also told his mother, which I was not as cool with. She was very into her first and only grandchild (my niece) at the time and voiced her wish to have more. Frequently. So when we started looking into why we weren’t pregnant after a year, MIL was privvy to this as well, but it did stop her asking questions, as I think she felt bad for prying before, now that we were having problems. Fine by me. I had actually said as much to a friend, that what if when we started trying we had problems, then wouldn’t she feel bad. Well, yes I’m sure she does. But not as bad as me.

I know J keeps his mom somewhat updated on our process which does bug me, because the only reason my mom even knows that we’re trying/having issues is that I pinned something infertility related on Pinterest and it shared it to my Facebook account (I didn’t really know how to use Pinterest properly at the time, and promptly unlinked the two accounts when my mom mentioned it.). She asked me about it, and I gave her the synopsis. I told her it is upsetting to me, and I don’t like to talk about it, and for the most part she leaves it alone. I know it kills her as I am her only child and she would love grandchildren, but I am thankful that she knows how I am and she does not ask questions unless I am volunteering information (which is rare).

I am not ashamed of the fact that we need help. But I do not offer any information up to people because I don’t need anyone else besides J and I waiting with bated breath to see if this month, is THE month. It is a personal, physically and emotionally difficult, and private process. But, at the same time, I wish people knew so they would stop asking.

Asking when we’re going to have kids, asking how many kids, asking why we don’t have kids yet. It’s getting tiresome. Apparently if you’ve been married for more than 5 minutes you are supposed to be procreating. We purposely didn’t get pregnant for the first 2-ish years of our marriage. We had time (we thought), we didn’t want to rush, we just wanted to enjoy life with eachother. We have done a lot of travelling, we’ve lived in Australia (albeit for a short amount of time) and enjoyed the child-free lifestyle.

I have a friend who like to ask, and pester as to when we’re going to have kids. She is a very sweet person, so I don’t want to be super harsh and say something snarky the next time she asks. I’ve debated sending her a private FB message, so not to embarrass her out in public, or in front of other people but that just seems like a cop out. She just recently (this weekend) was giving me a hard time, in front of a bunch of J’s family members. Luckily I had my mouth full, so I just gave her a tight smile and kept my mouth shut.

I also have to mention that she is a Fertile Myrtle. She has a 2 1/2 yr old, an 11 month old and is currently 5 months pregnant. That last one was an oopsie. When she told me, I instinctivley shrieked, “What?!”. Way to play it cool. But it was a surprise to her, and me, so it wasn’t totally uncalled for. With all three of her pregnancies she has conceived very quickly and easily, so she is the last person who I would expect to understand infertility.

Eventually I would like to be open to people about our struggles (preferably once we are safely pregnant, and not still in the throes of treatment), I just don’t know how to go about it. Facebook seems like a good medium, but sort of impersonal and a bit of an overshare. I don’t like to post a lot of personal type stuff on Facebook, so I’m torn. That is the main reason this blog is fairly anonymous, I’m not quite ready to sing it from the mountaintops. I think if someone knew me, and stumbled on it, they would figure it out pretty fast, but so be it. If they got here, and read all of this, somehow I would have less of a problem with them knowing.

How have any of you come out about your infertility struggles? Or are you still hiding? What’s life like out in the open? Once we are pregnant (if that happens) and announcing it to others I really would like to let them know what it took, so that they don’t just assume I’m a normal fertile. At the same time, I know J might be uncomfortable with this.

But, if us infertiles don’t try and educate the masses, or at least set them straight when they’re being douche-y, then who will?