It is a time of confessions. I'm sure I will let down members of Club Infertility, but surely confessing my sins brings me one step closer to absolution, right? So here goes...a day after my first of four positive pregnancy tests I did something most naughty. I went to the Ikea website and looked for the changing table/dresser I have been coveting since I first set eyes on it two years ago. At the time, I would wander around the kids' section enviously, glaring at all the happy families and wishing that I would be in the position to buy furniture for my child's room. The pregnancy test pushed me over the edge and I allowed the thought to creep into my mind that I may actually be someone's mother one day, and hey - they might need a crib, a changing table, or a stuffed animal with a delightfully Scandanavian name like Sporjak.
Second confession, and this is by far more vile. The Dude and I may or may not have purchased a couple of items of baby clothing whilst in the States. Ok, we did. But, BUT, it was mainly because they were on sale in Baby Gap and were too adorable to pass up. Additionally, please believe me when I say that I'm still not convinced the heartbeat we heard a few weeks ago belongs to a being that will be birthed by me in August. Yes, the purchases were made because this is the closest we've ever been to that being a reality, but I maintain they were for a baby, not necessarily this to-be baby. I know that sounds like I'm justifying what we did, and maybe it is. Regardless, we will be parents one day, if not to the current resident of my uterus, to a future child, biological or otherwise.
Having never seen a positive pregnancy test of my own before, let me be the first to say that it is immensely difficult to not go mad with excitement. Here I was a few months ago slagging off some IF blogger (she doesn't read me, for the record) for doing baby shopping seconds after her positive HPT. I pointed out how outrageous that behaviour was, yet I wanted to do the same before the pee even dried on my test. Common sense stopped me from acting on it, but it didn't stop me from drooling over Ikea baby furniture. Ugh, my Mom would have such a life lesson to teach me here.
That said, I have recently been exposed to a list of newly pregnant non-IF bloggers and holy hell are these women living in a world most unlike my own. I'm talking shopping for maternity pants at 5w and telling all relatives the happy news right after testing. Are these people not the least bit superstitious? Do they not know the rate of miscarriage in early pregnancy, even for ::ahem:: normal women? Shit. I want to laugh and point at them, yet at the same time I am jealous of their ignorance. What must it feel like to be so sure that you get a baby when the 9th month arrives?
I have another confession to make. I should really keep some of this to myself because I'm totally exposing all of my horrible traits and the likelihood I will come off as a complete dweeby nutwad is very high. Anyway, this infertile blood runs deep. One would think that achieving a pregnancy of admittedly as-yet-unknown duration would alleviate my jealousy. Non. Prior to the positive HPTs, I sometimes had difficulty reading pregnant bloggers, as we all do at some point or another. I'm finding that this is still the case now, which baffles me. Well, I don't have trouble reading them, but I find jealousy creeping in, and I am not quite sure why.
I don't know if it has to do with the fact that I am resolute in my belief that something bad will happen in my own pregnancy and that The Others will have problem-free pregnancies, or that I forget that I am actually pregnant. I know the latter sounds ridiculous, but I really do forget. Beyond the odd patch of nausea I feel no different from how I felt pre-pregnancy, and I hate it. I want so badly for this to be real and my lack of symptoms are making that such a struggle to believe.
I'm a bit of a mess lately it seems. I'm prone to mapping out workplace murderous rampages in my head and I'm jealous of other IFers who get pregnant despite the fact that I am, for now, pregnant. That, and I've placed a moratorium on spousal hugging because I'm too hateful to be hugged and I'm certainly not doing the hugging. Uh, yeah...I'm pretty much an ungrateful bitch I think. I need a nap or twelve.
N.B. To the person searching for "IVF women are selfish" - fuuuuuuhhhhhhhhck you.