It appears to be official that every woman I've been saying "as long as I get pregnant before her" about is pregnant. Everyone who got married after me - I was the first of pretty much all of my friends and everyone my age, for that matter, except for the extreme religious girls who got married and knocked up by the time the rest of us were collecting our college diplomas - is either expecting or already on her first or second child at least.
I don't know why I bother to go on Facebook; I know it's the catalyst for all bad infertility feelings, but I just can't help it. Particularly since I've been out of commission this week, it's as though I've become obsessed with keeping on top of all of the people I don't even care about. Today the one woman I secretly expected to see in my clinic waiting room one of these days posted a photo of an extremely pregnant belly, stating that she's expecting twins any day now. Did not see that coming.
I would describe the feeling as a gut punch, for those who don't comprehend the desperate feeling of seeing people so easily achieve what you cannot. Yet a gut punch would be a welcome sensation compared to the physical and emotional reaction that washes over me each time I'm disappointed with my inability to conceive and the jealousy of those who can. I do not begrudge a single person for a situation so beyond human control, but it's impossible for me to be happy for these women or to even be able to see them at all.
So that's it. Aside from the child-free crowd and the single & fabulous woman, it's just me. Even the lesbians I graduated with got knocked up during their closet days and now happily raise their children together. I am it. The cheese stands alone.
Figured since this is a downer post it could use this.