Three Cheers for Family Reunions

I think that I was so excited about having my family all together (we live all over 2 countries) that it failed to register how painful the whole thing had the potential to be. First, I had really hoped to be pregnant by now, pregnant enough so that I could announce it to everyone while we were all together. I had hoped for this 6 months ago at Christmas too, since we were almost all together then; I guess you can tell it didn't work out then either. Since we have now had our big reunion, that's gonna be it for at least another year, maybe even more. It looks like, should I get pregnant within the next year (please Jebus) I will be letting everyone know via MSN. F*cking yay. That should be as exciting as a lead balloon.


Then, my cousin has 2 of the most perfect children you will ever meet. She is a SAHM, so she is able to spend a lot of time with the 2 of them, and they are, honestly, the best kids ever. They are just a joy to be around and to interact with. Don't get me wrong, they are still children, and they have their moments to be sure, but 98% of the time, they are angels. So it was my great pleasure to be able to watch my parents interact like Grandparents with someone else's children. I discovered on this trip that my Dad is great with kids. He is pretty good with all ages, but I had never seen him interact with small children before, and he is a born-Grandpa. That was a little bit of a surprise knife-twist in my cardiac area. Not that he is great with kids of course, but that he couldn't be great with my kids, he was great with my cousins kids.

My family is pretty great with not pushing us about the kids issue, and its not because they know its painful for us, it just happened organically. We aren't a super-squishy family who is all aboust stuff like that. My mom has told me more than once that she is OK with not having grandkids (not that she doesn't want them, but she would survive, no probs, if we didn't have them). But, my uncle did ask when we were going to have some. And I said "as soon as my uterus decides to cooperate". When in actual fact, my uterus isn't the case at all. But I couldn't very well say "as soon as Rich's swimmers get their shit together". He would die. So I have to take on the responsibility. That's OK. I feel like its a lot easier of a thing for me to bear anyway.


I am afraid that blogs have taken a turn for the worst, Faithful Readers. No more light-hearted shit about recipes and products. Brace yourself for a torrent of doom and gloom. F*ck.





When I was younger, I used to love to listen to the Cure, and other melancholy music, and sit their staring blankly out of a rain-covered window, and just stew in my sadness. But I don't like it now. I much prefer to be happy all the time. I don't want this to turn me into a sad person. I've been "lucky" so far that I haven't really been too bummed out by this whole process. But I think that time is over.



I am turning 33 in a week, and I am still childless.



This is not what I had planned for my life, not even the contingency plan for my life.