Monday, September 1, 2008

Lack of Offspring on Glaring Display

It's always weird to go on vacation with family. Inlaws in particular. The potential for drama, anger, fights, and tears is very, very high. And I must say with all that in mind, this one was fairly uneventful. We were with his dad's side of the family, which is the fun side. We're allowed to drink beer while watching football (though I kept to my two-beer maximum, which is par for the course these days - even when I PLAN to drink, I still really lose interest early on) and can sneak away for a cigarette without TOO much of a lecture. These things are impossible with his mom's side, the Southern Baptists. So at least when we're with them, there's some semblence of being ourselves.


Okay, we're in our late thirties. We've been together since our early twenties. Married almost nine years and childless. Not through lack of trying. No no. Besides spending loads of cash we don't have on potentially helpful medical procedures, we've tried it all. No dice. Or should I say, no kids. Some days I'm okay with this; others I'm a hysterical, sobbing, snotfaced mess, wondering what the meaning of life is and hating the entire world. Especially the world where every idiot I've ever known has procreated without a problem.

So we spent four days at the beach with his dad and stepmom and his older brother, sister-in-law and their two young kids. The younger brother, his wife and their kids didn't make it, which pissed everyone off, but that's a whole different Oprah. The point is the kids. Everyone our age in both our families have them. We don't. It sort of really sucks. Kind of reminds us the whole time we're together that we're the ones lacking. It seems unnatural. It makes me feel less of a woman. With a good marriage, but one that isn't complete. My husband wants to be a father as much as I want to be a mother. Kids gravitate to him. These kids did this weekend, and to me as well. It hurts. And it feels like everyone is giving us silent sympathy, which some people could say I'm imagining, but I know how families work. "Poor K & B; they've tried. It's such a shame." I can hear the conversations. We're fairly drama free besides that, so what else is there to talk about when the subject of us comes up? Nothing.

There's almost nothing I hate worse than pity. I give enough of it to myself; I don't need yours, but thanks anyway.

My ovaries hurt.

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