Awkward Moments Strike Again

It's times like these that I feel compelled to wear a sign that says,

"No, I don't have kids. Yes, I want them, but after 9 years of trying, I haven't been able to have them, so I got cats instead."

I actually said this to someone upon being asked, "So when are you going to have babies?"

It was only my third day back at my old job (yes, you read that right. I'm filling in for my old boss while she is on vacation.), and I already had the Dreaded Question directed at me twice in one shift.

*sigh* WTFrick?

I sometimes wish I was quick enough to say, "beep! I'm sorry the quota of personal questions has been filled. To proceed further, either find a new topic of conversation, or pay a personal question fee of $50 dollars. Starbucks cards are also accepted."

Or I can skip the warning altogether and go directly to the personal question fee. I should charge a personal question fee.

After I said that to her, she didn't look me in the face. I guess I was too honest for her liking, but really, she had it coming. She only had herself to blame. If you'd have been there, if you'd have heard her, I bet you would have done the same.

I work again tonight. I'm hoping my Sheild of Sarcasm and wrist cuffs of Snark will repell any incoming jabs at me.

Those Awkward Moments

As some of you know, I was laid off from my job at a womens only gym last year in May. Since then, my former boss encouraged me to still come and work out, so basically I have a free membership.

There are some ladies at this gym that still don't know I am no longer an employee. It makes for an interesting, yet short, conversation that usually ends with me concluding said convo with, "it was a mutual parting."

This past week I had one of the most laughable, yet awkward conversations with a woman who either doesn't listen, or just doesn't process new information. To make things worse, she comes up with these bizarre assumptions about whomever she is conversing with, that it makes her look like...well...an idiot.

Below is an example of a recent conversation with her:

DB*: I've never seen your hair straight before.

Me: *incredulous look on face* My hair isn't straight today. It's curly. (I realize I could have been a little nicer in my response, but really, I don't work there anymore and I had no caffeine in my system to soften my reply.)

DB: Well it's not as curly as I've seen it before. So are you here working, or just working out?

Me: Just working out.

DB: Are you done with school? I thought that was why you left.

Me: What? Yes, I graduated from University 10 years ago.

DB: Have any of your children graduated?

Me: *o_O* Do I look old enough to have childen who are graduating? I don't have any children.

CB*: Oh. Well that's okay too.

Me: *flatly* Thanks.

She is lucky she got me on a good day, even if I didn't have caffeine in me. The encounter was just too laughable to get me mad. She tried so hard to make conversation with me and each question was a total bust. By the time she got to the children topic, I could see she was visibly uncomfortable. It was awesome!

It is a rarity for me to feel this much enjoyment from making someone so uncomfortable. Seriously, I'm not that cruel. But honestly, she was the one asking the questions with reckless abandon. Once she brought up the "kids" question, she had already crossed into "The Danger Zone" (cue Kenny Loggins).

Again, I don't work there anymore, so I didn't feel the urge or see the need to sugar-coat my answers. I had been doing that for the last 5 years when I had been working there. I just find it so rich that some of the women at this gym still feel the constant need to ask such personal questions and that they feel it is my obligation to be completely honest with them. Um, no.

I know on some level I should be ashamed of myself for my actions. Maybe, the things that she said and the questions that she asked weren't so bad. But I'm tired of being the one left uncomfortable after an awkward conversation.


*DB = Dumb Bunny
*CB = Condescending Bunny

Lying is wrong...

...but when used sparingly it can become an effective defensive tool against nosy intrusive stupid questions and assumptions.

Part of my job as a circuit coach is to stand in the circuit and make sure the members are using the machines correctly so they don't hurt themselves. The other part of that job is talking to them. I stick to safe subjects like tv shows, movies, pets and some times nutrition although this last one usually escalates into which resturants in the neighborhood have the best desserts.

I try my hardest to steer the conversations away from me. I don't like talking about me, unless they ask me about Jack. I love talking about my kitty. He is after all my most precious furbaby. He does a lot of funny things, so I have lots of stories. But I digress.

I was talking to a member the other day and the conversation was going pretty good. Then she says to me in an afterthought fashion, "Oh, I never asked you if you had kids..."[me: blank stare, wide eyes, speechless]..."Do you have kids?...Do you not want kids?"  [me: found voice "I have a cat..."]

And just like that in a matter of seconds I made the decision to lie, to not divulge any further information, and not clarify to her that her assumption was incorrect.

Why? Because I just didn't have the energy to go into my story with her. I didn't have it in me to pour my heart out to this random person about how much I want to be a mother. Lying was the safest option at my disposal.

What saved me from dissolving into a puddle of guilt? Knowing that ultimately I can choose who I tell my story to and this person wasn't meant to hear it. So I lied about my desire to have children and I let her assume I didn't want kids.

Does that make me a bad person for lying to protect my self preservation? I don't think so. I don't make it a habit of lying, but I'll make an exception when my fertility becomes the topic in casual conversation with random strangers.

*facepalm* I hate the talking part of my job. I hate talking about me.

Infertility, thou art a heartless b*?&#!

Even Jesus was Sarcastic or Is Honesty Really the Best Policy

These past couple of weeks I've been doing something that I normally wouldn't dream of doing...

cue the music...

I've been honest with people about our infertility. Its something new I've been doing since outing myself in April and finally deciding on an adoption agency.

There have been ample opportunities to do this, preferably two Sundays ago when Michael and I went to my old church to hear my former pastor speak. It was a weird day. Almost everyone from my old youth group was there and it was nice to see everyone grown up, married and with kids.

Naturally we got the kids question, which we answered, "Not yet, but we are in the process of adopting and we are excited about where the process takes us."

I was surprised that I was genuinely excited when we told people about us adopting. Don't get me wrong, I am excited, but I'm also very guarded about it. There is still a possibility that this won't work out, so I'm guarding my heart, but that doesn't mean I'm not excited that we are adopting.

Of course with this entire honesty thing one is bound to receive some crap not so nice comments from people. One came before I was even able to answer a question. The "Any kids" question a.k.a "The Dreaded Question" came from someone that was in my youth group who was a few years older than me. Before I could even answer the question he stepped over the line when he added, "What, you don't want kids?"

All this while staring at my chest...in church...right in front of my husband.

So not only am I uncomfortable with the question, I’ve also been put on the spot by someone I haven’t seen in over 15 years. So I gathered my courage, and quickly scrambled through my catalogue of snarky comebacks because at this moment I've pretty much rationalized that Jesus was sarcastic too (read the Gospels), so it’s okay. Jesus understands and He loves me.

Here is what I would have liked to have said: "What about you? Are you married? What, you don't want to get married? Was that question inappropriate? Can you please direct your question a little higher?"

Instead I said this: No we don't have kids. (honesty) We want kids, we just haven't been able to have them. (more information than is actually necessary) Right now we are in the process of adoption and we are excited. (does that answer your question, jerk)

I probably said more than what was necessary, but really who goes from asking if you have kids to assuming that you don't want any? Obviously people I haven't seen in over 15 years. After that I left before he actually said anything else to me. I heard later on that morning he came up to my mom and commented on how different her hair looked.

G: Your hair looks thinner, and shorter. Was it always like that?

Mom: Well the texture of hair changes when you have cancer and have to go through chemo. Often times it grows back thinner. What's your excuse?

YES! Oh how I wish I was there to have heard that conversation.

Everyone else was really great about hearing our adoption news. They were encouraging and excited for us. We had many people tell us that they will keep us in their prayers.

I also had the opportunity to share with one of my other old friends about our struggles with infertility, our losses and deciding not to try anymore.

It was very refreshing to be honest with someone and not feel shameful about our IF struggles, but talk about it freely with her. I surprised myself that I was so open with her, because we all know that I'm a bit out of practice in the art of opening up. But I felt she was a safe person and it was only her, not 20 people at once.

I stepped back and realized that had this been two years ago, or even a year ago, I would have dreaded going to my old church and seeing people I hadn't seen in years. I would have anticipated the kids question to the point of being on the brink of a panic attack. I would have driven myself crazy figuring out how to respond to each question, and over analyzing every encounter with these people.

Two years ago around this time, Michael and I went to a wedding of one of my old friends and there were some people in attendance that I had grown up with but hadn't seen in years. We didn't get the kids question that day, but it had only been 4 months out since the ectopic, and the outing was enough to dissolve me into tears seeing all my old friends I had grown up with, with kids of their own. I distinctly remember struggling to breathe during the reception.

A year ago at this time Michael and I were awaiting the results of our 4th and final IUI. Had we received an invitation to go to my old church, I don't even think we would have gone. If we had gone and received the kids question I would have just said, "No" and maybe a "Not yet". We would not have been upfront with anyone of our attempts to have children, much less talk about our losses or our IF struggles. I most likely would not have engaged in any conversations with anyone besides the usual small talk, but nothing in-depth.

To sum it up, there would have been lots of awkward silences trying to talk to me and the conversation wouldn't have been at all enlightening.

I guess you could say we have grown in the last year. We are a lot more honest with people when the Dreaded Question comes up. We usually don't include the "haven't been able to have them" part unless it is implied that we don't want kids. We just jump right into the "but we are adopting" and we make sure to say it with the proper enthusiam it deserves.

So I guess honesty is the best policy, but just remember that if I get asked the wrong question I will exercise my right to give a sarcastic answer.

Thank you Apple, Inc for once again reminding me that I'm infertile.

Have you seen the new iPhone 4 commercial? This woman tells her husband through the new video share feature that she is pregnant. However, before she shares this precious news with her husband she tortuously drags out the news by asking first if he has a minute, then asks if he is alone and finally says, "You know that thing we've been working on for a while now. Well..."


I'll admit the commercial is sweet, but after being beaten to death with it yesterday, it started to slowly pry open a wound that I wasn't aware still had tender spots, but one that I had hoped I had come to resolve and move on from. It was a part of myself that didn't want to be reminded of the life experiences taken away from us by IF.

It made me a bit sad that something so sweet, albeit poorly scripted and executed, could resurface the bitterness and anger I had at the course God has put us on. The unfairness of not being consulted of the detour He would set for us in our life plan. Our dream of biological children shattered and needing to be mourned. The constant inappropriate questions from people asking us about children and if we wanted any.

I know that there will be always something like a commercial, a movie plot, or a TV episode that will bring back those feeling of loss and anger. I know its not something that I can hide from. I just hate getting the wind knocked out of me while watching my favorite program.

Because it's things like this that get me thinking of questions I still don't have answers to like, "Why did God choose us to be the ones to deal with IF? Why does He think we can handle it? What does it all mean? What is He preparing us for? What lessons are we suppose to be learning? Have we learned them yet?"

The only possible "answer" I can come up with that makes sense to me is that maybe He is preparing us to be better people, and hopefully better parents. I honestly don't know. I'm sure I'll never know why God chose this path for us.

As hard as the road of IF is, I do believe in my heart that God's plan is always perfect, more perfect than I can ever imagine. I may not be able to see how our journey ends, but knowing God is walking with us as we are on this path makes it more bearable.

I just hate when stupid things like TV commercials remind me that I'm infertile. Praise God for a mute button, though I do wish a mute button applied to people as well.

Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert!

Since turning 33 this past Tuesday (thank you all for the lovely birthday wishes), it seems to have opened the flood gates to inappropriate questions. Well maybe not so much inappropriate as intruding questions.

People hear '33' and they seem to think that its okay to now have that 'talk' with me about it being time for me to settle down and have kids.

Yes, like I haven't thought of that too.

My hairdresser was the first one this week. "When are you going to have kids? You know, its time to start thinking about it."

I had only a split second to think about whether or not I should be honest with her and tell her we are infertile or just let it slide. The last time I let it slide I was called a 'Woman of Leisure' in which the questioners wrongfully assumed that I didn't want kids. The end result was not pretty, as I was on the verge of tears and practically yelling at them that I did in fact want kids, we were just was unable to have them.

I decided to be completely honest with her. Her face fell, she seemed genuinely sorry that she had asked. I think she was searching for something comforting to say, the end result was, "enjoy your life and the time you have with your husband." She should have stopped after that, but instead she proceeded to tell me how difficult it was raising four children. Thanks...I think.

The next one was yesterday with a new member. I was training her on the machines and like all new people they want to chat, so what is the question she asks me, "Any children?"

Crap!!!

"No"

"Do you want kids?"

Seriously? Are you kidding me?

And there it was again, the internal conflict of choosing to be honest or choosing to cower in my own secrecy of IF. I choose honesty, and for the worse reason yet. I wanted her to feel bad asking a young infertile woman the one question she hates to hear and answer. I wanted to strip away the assumption that just because a woman looks of child-bearing age, doesn't mean she can bear children. I wanted her to think twice about ever opening with that line of questioning...ever again.

So I said, "We want kids, we're just not able to have them."

Of course what I really wanted to say was,  Thank you, for bringing up such a painful subject. Why don't you give me a nice paper cut and poor lemon juice on it. (Thanks Miracle Max).

I know honesty is the best thing in dealing with people and their annoying questions, its just so exhausting. Every time I 'out myself' to these people, anxiety soon follows. I can feel my heart start to beat faster and faster against my ribcage. I can feel the tears threatening to come from behind my eyes, followed by the painful lump in my throat, as I try to be strong and come clean about my inability to have children.

I swear the next person that asks me the 'kids' question, I'll be sure to accompany my honest answer with some tears.

On a happy note, I'm excited that we finally picked an adoption agency. I spent my birthday night rewriting the application and deciding which picture to send with it. I choose this one.

Its the professional one the Disney Photoman took with his camera. The one he took on my camera was awful. I think they do that on purpose so you have to buy the pictures they take.

Anyway, I'm glad that we took that step of faith. We will see what happens and what God has in store for us.

Have a great weekend, everyone :)

The Dreaded Question

I have found that there is at least one dreaded question in every stage of life. A question we wish people would never ask, but we always seem to fall victim to. Its ignorance is masked as well meaning curiosity, sometimes attempting to pass as a simple conversation starter. Once the question is asked, its usually hard to avoid not answering it without snapping at the asker and looking like an idiot.

I'm sure you know what dreaded questions I'm talking about.

When you're single its either, "So, are you dating anyone?" or "Why don't you have a boyfriend, yet?" (this one was always my favorite *eyeroll*)

When you're dating its, "So, when are you guys going to get married?" or "So, has he popped the question yet?"

When you first get married its, "When are going to start a family?"

And once you hit the 5 year mark in your marriage the initial question of "when" turns into "Do you have kids yet?" to, "Why don't you have kids yet?" to finally, "You don't want kids?"

See how the last questions turns into an assumption? Just because I've been married nearly 9 years and we don't have children, doesn't mean that we don't want children. Did I also mention I got asked if I was a "Woman of Leisure"?

What?

It never enters their minds, for one second, that maybe I want kids, but I just can't have them. Nor does it occur to them that their invading questions are constant reminders to me that "Oh yeah, I can't have children".

I never would have thought that not wanting kids was less of a taboo, than not being able to have them.

Last week I got asked, "You don't want kids?" by a member at work (followed by the 'woman of leisure' comment). I finally acknowledged "the dreaded question" with the best, honest answer I could muster. "I want them. I'm just not able to have them."

I changed the subject quickly and started talking about my cat, Jack.

I was proud of myself for giving them an honest answer. I didn't cry under the pressure or snap at them, I just answered it and they shut up.

On my way home I stopped at Starbucks and cried when I got home.

"Are You Enjoying Your Early Thirties?"

That was the question I got asked by the Bank Manager as I sat at his desk trying to straighten out the mess with our checks. I was surprised at the question considering he looked about the same age is me (give or take a few years).

"They're alright. Why?" I answered warily .

"My wife is having a hard time with turning 30."

"Oh, um. Do you have children?" I asked, cringing because I hate when people ask me that question.

"A two-year old."

Internal groan, of course he has a kid. *facepalm*

I smiled, nodded and told him that turning 30 was hard for me because I thought we (my husband and I) would have had two kids by then and we'd be done, but no. He looked surprised at the thought of being 30 and having two kids. I explained that I got married when I was 24, so it made sense to me. I had a plan, but nothing went according to my plan.

He proceeded to say what all fertile people with kids say (no offense to those with kids reading this) about kids being a major exhausting life change and blah, blah, blah. I smiled and told him that I know its a change. I know having kids must be hard. I might not have experienced that particular change or hardship yet, but that is only because I haven't been given the chance.

I don't think he was expecting me to be so open. I wasn't expecting it either, but he started it with that stupid question. And I didn't give him any details of our struggles and losses, that would have been overkill and a bit weird.

To be honest I haven't enjoyed my early thirties. They have been the hardest years for me. I sometimes think maybe last year and the year before were my two years of experiencing a mid-life crisis (okay that is probably a bit too over dramatic).

The only thing I enjoy about being in my early thirties is not looking like I am in my early thirties.

People ask the stupidest questions.