The past week has been all about getting lapped.
Not one, not two, but FOUR couples have announced their second pregnancies. Two of these couples had their first well after we started trying for a bub.
Faaaark it hurts. Even though I’m on a two month break from the IVF train, which generally means I switch off from the acute ups and downs of infertility, it’s stuff like this that breaks through like some sort of fucked up dog whistle.
WHEEEEEEEEEEE!!! HELLO! IT’S STILL HERE! YOU’RE STILL INFERTILE AND – GUESS WHAT – IT STILL HURTS!!!!
So, yeah. Second pregnancies. Rub it in, why don’t you? If we were one of those blissfully, ignorantly, fertile couples we too would probably be announcing a second pregnancy right about now. I always wanted to pop out two (three!?) in quick succession.
At thirty, I guess I should be expecting this more and more often now. It doesn’t stop the little stabbing pain it causes. An excellent bullseye, right in the middle of my heart.