Oddly enough

I was meandering about the intertubes, now that I’ve got them back. Specifically, I was blog-hopping in Infertility Land, and I am forced to the conclusion that I am a bit weird for an infertile woman. Oh, fuck it, I’m a bit weird for everything. But we’re not discussing everything. Are we?


  1. I don’t actually mind Mother’s Day/Mothering Sunday/Whatever The Heck You Call It. Well, I mind it personally, as I want a baby, haven’t got one, all those miscarriages, yada yada, face being rubbed in it, wounds liberally salted, etc.. But I don’t mind the fact it exists at all. I think it’s rather nice that there’s a day to give your Mum a card and thank her for letting you wreck her pelvic floor/ability to sleep through the night/tolerance for high-pitched noises. I also think it’s amusing that if you and your mother Do Not Get On, you get a day to Officially Ignore her on, just to make that point all pointy. If I get to be someone’s female parent, I will be really quite pissy if I don’t get a wee scrap of paper covered in glitter and stick figures with improbable hair on that day (I do think getting your partner to buy you an expensive present ‘on your child’s behalf’ once said child is over 3 is cheating. Sorry, but I do. Same goes for Father’s Day. You will take the scribbly glitter and you will like it. Why else were fridge magnets invented? There. I have been judgy. Bring on the hate).
  2. I like seeing small kids. I am that nice lady who will wave and make faces at your grouchy toddler in the supermarket queue. I am that kind commuter who will help you carry the push-chair up or down the stairs. I am that friendly passer-by who will corral your five-year-old before he sprints out into the road under the wheels of a passing bus. I will smile when you bring your excited kids into the café where I was having a quiet cappucino. I just like small kids. Sorry, but I do. (Maybe not in the ACU or RM clinic’s waiting rooms, though).
  3. Pregnant bellies do, I admit, make me wince, and feel wistful and sorry for my self, but I also think pregnant women are the most beautiful humans on this earth. Except the one I regularly see smoking outside the office. She is an ugly shrivelled little soulless wimp with a mouth like a cat’s arse. I judged again. You’re welcome.
  4. I have a great deal of sympathy for women with morning sickness, back-ache, varicose veins and heartburn, for people being kept awake all-night by shrieky small people, for people making fishfingers for the ninth night in a row because Small Precious won’t eat anything else. If someone bitches to me about noisy anxsty teens or little princesses who break things in their tantrums, I agree, it’s distressing. I don’t think they should suck it up and be grateful. And if I ever get pregnant again, let alone get lucky and end up with a shrieky picky noisy anxsty stormy house-destroyer of my own, I too will want the right to bitch about it all. Ungratefully. Because it’s worth bitching about, even when I and you and everyone knows it’s damn well worth it.
  5. However, I too really, really loathe the sight of most baby clothes, toys, and blankies. But not because of the darling little heart-breaking cute I am shut out from, oh no. I shudder with distress because most baby-things are repulsive, shoddily-made, gender-stereotyped, nylon-heavy, poorly-stitched, expensive, lurid and expensive pieces of shit, that’s why. I’m trying to buy someone I care about a gift here, people. Which is why I invariably end up giving new parents hand-cream, baby-blues bath-oil, body lotion, and booze.
  6. I confess to shouting ‘I want one!’ at the telly whenever a particularly cute child appears, even if said child is advertising baked beans or something. I don’t think that’s weird at all.

10 responses to “Oddly enough

  • strugglingwithbipolar

    I guess I am weird for a woman going through the fertility journey too. I actually LOVE seeing small children. I just want to play with them. That wasn’t the case right after my miscarriage. As far as Mother’s Day, I am glad it exists even though it hurts, and I even bought myself a gift last year. I may have lost my baby, but I now consider her my angel baby.

    I do have a lot of problems with pregnancy announcements and pregnant women though. I hate hearing them complain about their morning sickness and other pregnancy related symptoms because I would love to be in their shoes.

  • Laurel

    I expect it is 100% natural, when struggling with infertility, to find too much pain in any of these things to be positive about them. But I think it’s great that you don’t entirely.

    There is good baby stuff out there, but you have to pay through the nose for it, even more so than for the not-so-good stuff. We probably also get very different brands available in our respective location and the U.S. is probably a peak availability location for hippie natural-fiber non-gendered non-offensive-in-any-way items. Having said that, I did my last such shopping online and came away with aden + anais muslin blankets (Australian I think), the Miracle Blanket, and “The Happiest Baby on the Block” DVD (not all for one person…$$$$$expensive those muslin blankets are!).

    Re #6, and I hope you get one. I still feel the same way, baked beans and all, so can’t say that feels strange in the least. But anyway, I’d really like to send you your own piece of baby gear.

  • a

    Weird you might be, but I think you have a very healthy attitude that Bitter McTwisted has not been able to totally commandeer.

  • Betty M

    My main aversions in the infertile years were to pregnancy announcements and those days when every woman in London appeared to be pregnant. Otherwise I was pretty sanguine about most stuff and I was one of those rare people who actively liked people bringing their children to fertility clinics as living proof this occasionally actually worked.

    Scandinavians make decent not criminally expensive baby clothes which also meet any organic, natural requirements of recipients’ parents.

  • manapan

    1. I really don’t mind the idea of the day, just the marketing hype leading up to it. That and the fact that everywhere you go that day is mobbed with happy families and it feels like they’re rubbing your nose in it.
    2. I’m the one who, instead of trying to stop them, will barely stifle laughter as your child tears up the plants in the waiting room, then tell you how adorable s/he is.
    4. I really don’t expect others to do the same, but I want to suck it up and be grateful. But when I can’t do it, it makes me quite angry to be told I’m whining (thanks, recently deleted anonymous commenters!).
    6. Not weird at all, dear. And the whole post just reinforces that you’re a much better person than I am, which completely fits the national stereotypes and amuses me to no end. 🙂

  • Womb For Improvement

    I’m inclined to agree with most of these points. Except for point 6 where I don’t shout “I want one” but turn to the husband and ask “Are we ever going to have one?”

    Oh, and Mothers Day has already made me cry once this morning – but I don’t think it should be banned I just wish it wasn’t so painful a reminder of what I’ve lost / never had.

  • Valery

    I love you for being weird. I love playing peek-a-boo. I secretly love it when the seat behind me in a plane has a baby and it tries to pull my hair… and i always try to make the neighbour kids smile.

  • Everydaystranger

    I used to avoid Ikea’s children section like the plague. The plague, I say, the blue and yellow plague.

    I’m with you on the gifts, too – glitter and glued pasta shapes. That’s where it at. We have a tradition whereby the twins provide me with plants for the garden, which I love but invariably kill. Someday the knack will be set. Father’s Day sees the entrance of power tools. You might say that’s cheating, but in this house everyone’s a winner if he gets power tools (and glittery pasta cards. He gets those too.)

  • fateofthechocolatechipcookies

    Love your post. I totally agree with you on point #5. I always wonder why they don’t make baby items match the rest of the house furniture. They do, but baby toys, crawling mats, are way too colorful to be in a living room filled with traditional house furniture.
    I too play with babies and I don’t mind them. they are super cute and innocent. I just want my own soon! 🙂

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