Me, Me, Me

I came back to check out my last post. I usually reread them a few days later. There are always typo's that I missed, or sentence structures I end up changing. But this time I feel the need to explain a few things in the last post. Number one: I was having a bad day, childlessly speaking. Number two: There is almost no right way to tell an infertile couple that you're expecting. Maybe I shouldn't be generalizing, but what I'm trying to say is that you, the fertile, can't win. No matter where you tell me, or what you say, I am going to feel a loss. You know why? Because it's ALL ABOUT ME. I live in a far off distant land, where your pregnancy news makes me think about my empty spare bedroom. I don't like it here. I hate that my friend's joy only reminds me of what I'm missing. But I can't help myself. So when you tell me that you're pregnant, and I congratulate you with a smile. Please know that any sadness in my eyes has nothing to do with you. It's all about me.


P.S. There is an unruly double standard that also applies, I'm usually very excited for people dealing with infertility who finally become pregnant.