If At First You Don't Succeed

So it's nearly June and we're all wondering if things are going to get better. If the Great Shift of 2008 is ever going to happen. If grey skies are gonna clear up, or something. I can say, a new Lost episode certainly helps matters. Although now I'm all HOW IS HE GOING TO MOVE THE ISLAND every other minute.

Oh yeah, and three more people are pregnant. This should not come as a surprise. It's been raining babies since December 2006. Since then I've had seventeen (or is it eighteen? nineteen?) babies come into my life. And I'm only counting friends, not all the babies I know about. My fridge looks like the bulletin board at my gynecologist's office - here a baby, there a baby, everywhere a FREAKING BABY. But I do love them, the babies. Each one of them is special to me and precious and I would never wish them to be anything different than exactly what they are...or where...or when, specifically. I'm not (exactly) jealous of my friends and their babies. Not harboring resentment towards my nieces. Have nothing but total love for each gurgle and new tooth. Love to see them. Love to hold them. Love to babysit. Love to get new photos for my fridge/wall of babies.

But it's hard.

Everyone I know (yes, EVERYONE) seems to be getting on with it. Starting families. Having their second or third or fourth baby. Meanwhile I'm here hanging out with Madam Vaginismus and her violent mood swings. She's mean, that one. You never know what she wants, never can seem to appease her. One day you think you've got her figured out, think you can finally be friends. Then suddenly she flies into a rage worthy of an Oscar nomination. But you're not applauding.

And it's becoming harder not to talk about it. I've reached an age and a point in my marriage where casual friends and co-workers are starting to ask the inevitable. So when are you guys going to have kids? Are you trying?

I hate that phrase..."trying". The polite way to ask if you're having sex ten days after your period. What do you want from me, a schedule? A flow chart of my flow chart and if I'm ovulating and how often my husband and I...try? There's no other moment in life when people so freely ask about your most personal. When did it become ok to ask this? To assume that trying is easy? And for some of my friends it is that easy. Their husbands give them "the look" and suddenly they see two pink lines instead of one. They say "we didn't even try!" and giggle as if we're all part of the inside joke.

If only.