6/07/2005

So you reproduced successfully, what do you want, a fucking medal?

It never ceases to amaze me how much people, particularly women, are supposed to care about the abundant fertility of others. Children are flaunted, and we are expected to oooo and ahhhh over these precious bundles of joy, as if basic reproduction is something rare and not achieved by millions of people per year.

Today a guy that works in my university brought his toddler daughter (who I must confess, I thought was a boy, oops! I should really be having kids, huh? Even gender confuses me!) into the office I share with four other women. Unfortunately for this man, he could not have picked a more child-ambivalent environment in which to bring his spawn. There is me, hopelessly infertile but nonetheless vastly unconcerned with the children of others, one woman is a childless-by-choice lesbian in her 50s, another is a child-hating woman in her mid-30s, a third has a stepchild and has no interest in any more, and the fourth is seemingly disinterested in anything aside from trying to project a managerial air.

So here is this clueless smug fertile, parading his androgynous child around a room filled with the women least likely to commend him for his potent sperm and his wife's particularly accomodating uterus and damn fine ovaries. I almost felt bad for him when he shuffled shamefully out of the room, head down with his child clinging to his leg like a leech. Ah, who am I kidding? It was all I could do not to make scary faces at the leech-child as they were leaving.

Naturally this anti-child rant is followed by my own reproductive plans because I am all about the natural segue. The meeting with the consultant to discuss IVF is rapidly approaching it's next Saturday, the 18th. Hopefully it will signal the go ahead to actually start IVF, though this would also mark the beginning of the bread and water diet that The Dude and I will be reduced to. I'm tremendously apprehensive, but I know this is the right path to take. Please remind me of this when I'm pumped full of hormones, my ass is even more dimpled, but this time as the result of needle marks rather than too much Ben and Jerry's. I'll be back to the talk of all matters fertility, even though I'll still have no idea what I'm actually talking about.

I am sure of one thing though - if by some freakish one in a gazillion chance this IVF does get me knocked up, I will not be toting my child around my former office expecting people to commend me for *finally* kicking my asshole ovaries into shape. I will expect all of you to do this, but uh...that's what you're here for, right?

12 comments:

amyesq said...

Whohoo! About damned time, I say. And Top Ramen is always an option..

Manuela said...

You know we will be here to coo and gush appropriately as required.

Believe me, I do know what you mean. Yesterday there was supposed to be a wine-drinking binge fest with some friends in recognition of the fact that yesterday was the due date of my long-since miscarried pregnancy... yah... well... instead... it turned into a festival celebrating the nursery and baby clothes of one pregnant friend... and ME being handed the baby of another friend to coddle so as to free up the mother to enjoy her meal.

UGH!!! Wanting a child does not necessarily mean I'm in love with every baby and every cloyingly cute baby accessory purchased for every nursery ever assembled. ESPECIALLY WHEN ONE IS INFERTILE.

hrmph. Thank you for giving me a venue to air this...

Dooneybug said...

Oh yes, we will certainly be here to shower you with much pomp and circumstance.

Unfortunetly for me, I work in an office with 7 other women (3 of which are extremely fertile) and one fertile male. There's been a new baby born every year for the last 9 years.

Molly said...

Hey -- I like that dimpled ass.

I think that the first thing we should ask EVERYONE we meet is, "So, what gender are you?" It would save a lot of confusion.

Nico said...

Child-flaunters suck. It's always so uncomfortable. You're supposed to oooh and aaah and oh how cute - bleauch (or however you spell that). And the goofy grin people get? Puh-leeze.

However, WE get to oooh and aaah over your child to be in utero, which is much better. No expectations, no forced fakeness.

T said...

Haha - I love the image of this guy strutting in and heading hang-dog out.

Alright for starting! What's the deal with the bread and water diet?

PJ said...

Hey Pru, you're lucky to work in the type of office you do. At least you don't have to worry about walking in and getting a pregnancy announcement drive-by.

I almost dread coming in because I know there are a few ladies in my office trying. I can't wait for the blind-siding.

I like that you berated fertile-father of androgenous kid in to place though, that was perfect.

Suz said...

I loved this story and wish that my own office was as non-chalant about these things!

Internal Spring said...

You work in THE OFFICE from heaven in mine there is always a pregnant person or a pregnant wife (right now one pregnant person, 3 pregnant wives - and we have showers for the men and the women).

I'm glad you're getting started, very exciting.

Bread and water, hmm, not such a good idea, perhaps you can eat at the in-laws or friends every now and then (as long as they don't expect anything in return). There's alway spam (the kind in a can) too.

MC said...

I hate it how now they can get to you through e-mail as well. A friend of mine kept e-mailing me every friggin picture of her kid. In the end I just didn't open any e-mails form her.

Mony said...

Yes doll. That's what we're here for! In due time I very much look forward to showering you with praise, congratulations & well wishes!

Pamplemousse said...

I don't know if I can coo and gush on demand but I can snark, mmkay?