Today was one of the days that P. and I met up with our mums and babies group. We took a leisurely walk along the seafront and then went to a little cafe for cakes and hot drinks. In the midst of conversations about baby development, spousal sex demands, and crying fits, the topic of further children arose.
Prior to P.'s birth, The Dude and I believed we wanted two children. Now, we're not so sure anything but one would suit us. This parenting gig is far more demanding and draining than we anticipated, and merely thinking about another baby is enough to make The Dude look into DIY sterilisation. You know, since conception comes so easy to us.
Therein lies today's moment of clarity. To my knowledge, all of the other women in my group conceived naturally. I've not told them about P.'s petri dish past, but I think I will tell them at some stage if the situation presents itself again. I got so caught up in the conversation about whether or not we would try for another baby, that I actually *forgot* that this body doesn't just get pregnant by the way of the penis. I joined in the conversation as if a second child would just happen if we wanted it to. What the fuck? I didn't sit there, silent and resigned like I should have. I contributed as if my second child will follow in a couple years' time just as all of theirs will if that decision is made.
I shouldn't say this on what still may pass as an infertility blog, but I don't always remember. I have forgotten on more than one occasion that I'm not like the others. In discussions with The Dude regarding PruDude Offspring Part Deux I have said that after some time of trying naturally (hahahahaha) I want to go straight to IVF. No faffing about with Clomid or IUIs - just straight to the big guns. However, stick me in a group of happy little mummies and the years of trying unsuccessfully fall out of my head.
I hate myself for it, but then I think that perhaps this is my time to feel normal. I've felt like an outsider for so long, can I be punished for wanting to be included as one of "them" for just a little while? Why shouldn't I be allowed to forget all of the infertility-related depression, cooter wandings, immense quantity of drugs, and the agonies of a number of endless 2ww periods over a cup of coffee and slice of cake?