So I was sitting at Sta.r.bu.cks this morning doing some work and a woman and her little girl came in and sat in my chair cluster. Now, I’m sure they have their moments – the little girl looked about 2. But from where I was sitting, they were buddies. They had private jokes. They had games and dance moves and they were having a grand old time. And despite usual urge to send angry at the universe eye daggers at them, they made me smile.
Until I came to the realization that I was only going to have a buddy like that once I had paid thousands, potentially tens of thousands of dollars. And an emotional price too high to name. Now maybe she did too. That I will never know. But I’m irked today that almost everyone I know paid for the bottle of wine, maybe the dinner. Heck – maybe there was lube. And that’s it. They didn’t pay the emotional toll…one ticket to the infertility rollercoaster – that’ll be 2 or more years of your life, part of your relationship with your husband, your relationship with all your pregnant friends, some of your self worth. Oh, and a big chunk of your sex life please.
I am not a fan of roller coasters. And I am not saying I care about the money more than I care about finally adding to our family. I am thrilled to have the opportunity to take this next step in our journey to become parents.
I’m just grieving having missed out on an experience that is just about happiness. Just about two people becoming three. Sure, once baby comes, most couples experience a bit of money trouble, relationship trouble, some loss of self for Mom, some loss of sex for both of them. But until the stork comes – it’s happy, happy, happy.
Not everybody has to pay for a ticket to happy. And I would like to be those people. Dammit.