When Infertiles Attack!!!

So, ummmm…yeah.  Mother’s Day. 

Sigh.

Or, why I am overly-sensitive and need to chill the frick out.

Everyone keeps telling us to ‘have more fun’ and to just ‘relax’ —  each and every one of us infertiles has probably heard this <bunny ears> advice <bunny ears> a quadrillion times since we started trying to get pregnant.  And even though I usually sigh and with an exasperated and barely-disguised sneer on my face say, "I know, thank you.  We should try that.  I’ve never thought of THAT."  As frigging if.   

But. 

In the spirit of trying to have more fun and relax, BeBop and I decided to get massages yesterday at a local spa.  (I know:  I am married to a total metrosexual.  Well, this IS Northern California after all, what did you expect??  He gets massages and wears sandals and I have made my peace with that.  Moving on.)  We couldn’t get appointments at the same time, so instead he went in at 4:00 and I went at 5:00.  While he was paying for his massage and I was checking in for mine, the women at the front realized we were married and both at the spa at the same time.  Eee gads!  For some reason this was very alarming to one of the attendants.

WHERE ARE THE KIDS?  She screeched at me as we were walking to the back room where you’re supposed to relax before your treatment.

"Ahhhh….we don’t actually have kids."

"Oh. How was your Mother’s Day?"

And my reaction to that lovely remark?

"Ummmm….well, actually we’re trying to have kids, and when you’re trying for a long time Mother’s Day can actually be kinda crappy.  To tell you the truth.  Since you asked, and all, and ahhhh ummmm…"  I stammered on and on and ON like a complete raving lunatic moron.

I just wanted to STOP but my mouth kept forming words and stringing them together in half-sentences and I was powerless to stop it!!

It was just the kind of response that sent her, I’m quite sure, scurrying back to the front desk to report on the ‘crazy lady in the white t-shirt who is obviously in need of something MUCH stronger than body work.’

Actually, the massage itself was pretty good.  And I needed it, after spending the morning with MY mother.  She’s a kick, but rather exhausting.  Which you’ve probably picked up on if you’ve read more than a couple of posts here.  Brunch was all bird flu, the evils of sugar substitute and a comprehensive report on how the hybrid car we want to buy just ‘explodes without warning on the freeway’ or some such thing. 

Good times.