Do you see it?

(if anyone is even still reading here, that is)

Do you see it? That little "i" that must be tattooed on my forehead, the one that whispers "infertile." I think it's usually hidden. It's easy to hide behind the mommyspeak regarding bottles, diapers, daycare, feeding schedules, and how my ten-month-old (yes, time is flying) is now taking steps. But I know it's there. I can feel it burn ever so slightly when I see the vast numbers of other mothers at daycare sporting a very pregnant belly. It itched when I learned that I had been lapped again by a coworker and her sister (a most fertile family, apparently). And it started to flash when of the other mothers in our mom's group started talking about when we all were going for number two. That little infertile label raises its head and whispers in my ear, "They don't know, they don't get it, not everyone can just plan a baby- a first or a second. Why can't it be like kindergarten again where everyone gets firsts before seconds can be passed out? Why can't they just be happy with what they have?"

But did you know?- it's not just a "tattoo", it's also a magnet. I don't know if it's attracting me to them or them to me. But it seems that either infertiles are finding me or I am finding them. Given how open I now am about infertility in general and ours in particular (I talk about it with any random Target employee, grocery store clerk, people standing in lines, etc.), it seems that the infertile find me. I must have met half of the patients from the REs in the Twin Cities.

This magnetism came to the forefront last week when picking my son up from daycare. A mother of one of the other little boys (who is actually younger than mine) announced to the teachers (and me, I guess, since I was in the room) that she was unexpectedly 10 weeks pregnant. One of the teachers began the squealing that comes with such announcements- when are you due? how are you feeling? yack, yack. The other turned silently to me and asked if we were planning another. I looked her straight in the eye and said, "I don't feel that's something in my control." I answered her quizzical look by explaining, "It took us nearly two years to conceive Zachary and that was unlikely at best. I also had a difficult pregnancy and delivery, so a second child is not something I can really plan." Words just poured out of this woman so fast about how she has been trying for so long and just started seeing an RE and how she didn't know even one person who had any trouble.

I said to her that this must be a very difficult job for her. She brightened and replied that "No one else has recognized that. But sometimes it is very hard and others it is a blessing to get to cuddle some babies." We chatted about different treatments and I left her with the instruction to please feel free to ask me any questions that she had or if she just needed to tell someone.

The little "i" must have been glowing.

And I