hey you--it's me, two years ago. quit your compaining!

I was wheeling my child through the grocery store by my old house a couple of days ago picking up i don't even remember what and I passed a woman who has worked there since the place opened about five years ago (and since I go to the grocery store (and target) about three times a week i 'know' her). She's younger than me, I think, single, I think, and was actually headed out of the store with her groceries.

for some reason I wondered what she thinks when she sees me. I am a mom, who has time to visit the grocery store multiple times a week, during the day, so she can probably tell I am a stay at home mom. I wear a ring on my finger (that is quite lovely, frankly) and so she probably also knows I am married.

i wondered if she wished her life was more like mine.

i have no reason to believe she did, other than the without a doubt knowledge that two years ago, if I had been in her shoes, seeing a mom with a (absolutely adorable and perfect in every way) little baby in the cart wheeling through the store, I would have.

of course, nowadays I generally feel like I want other people's lives (with my current cast of characters, of course, I'll even take my own history, primary infertility included). I want the life of a person who is not infertile. Who at least ovulates. ever. Who didn't struggle with fearing the future instead of looking ahead with hope (blog title be damned).

But then I think back to myself, two years ago.

I had just started to take metformin for the first time and was horribly sick. I'd been trying to get pregnant for about 16 months and had yet to ovulate even one freaking time. I was SO PISSED that I might go another year childless when I just wanted it so bad. I melted down all the time. I cried in front of strangers, at my doctor, at school, at church. ANYWHERE and EVERYWHERE. I saw pregnant bellies and hated their owners (strangers or, worse, friends). I wanted a baby more than anything.

And that me--if I saw this me in the grocery store would have said, "I have it all!" My heart would have burst with joy at seeing that little boy and knowing that he was mine, my happy ending. I would have sworn to never ask for another thing so long as I live.

And yet, here I am, two years later. With the dream come true napping in his crib, asking for more, yearning for more, desperate for more.

And this knowledge, the knowledge that others out there, those who are experiencing primary infertility (me two years ago!) might look at me and see what they want, might hear of my wanting more and expressing pain and feel resentful, even disgusted at my greed produces a sense of self-hatred that makes secondary infertility uniquely different from primary infertility.

CD 95
Metformin 1500 mg
3 days til RE appt!

And yet I