Debbie Downer (or whatever the hell her name is...)

OK, team, this isn't going to be a pretty one. I'm feeling pretty angry today. And yesterday. Why, you ask? Oh, no reason really. Just mad at the world because it's pregnant. Everyone in the flipping world is pregnant. Or, they have a baby. There are babies EVERYWHERE! Have you been to church lately- chalk full of babies! People are out there expecting twins and triplets, their second, their third, fourth, or eighteenth child! People are expecting babies they have no business having for that matter. Can you say teenage pregnancy?

You may want to stop reading this if you haven't met "real-JoDee" yet, because I'm gonna repulse you. I am going to be a big, fat sack of self-pity. And I just don't care, because this is my blog, so suck it!

I am convinced that I am infertile. Here are my reasons (Sean's reasons why I'm insane will be in parenthesis): we have not used formal birth control for over 2 years with no accidents (I'm a huge stud with massive self-control), we stopped doing anything preventative from July to September (we didn't time anything, and one of those months we didn't try at all because we were getting wishy-washy), we tried hard-core for the last two months with nothing (normal people have only a 20% chance of getting pregnant any given month, and we have really only tried two months. It could take up to a year and still be normal).

OK, so infertile it is. Or, maybe Sean has mutant sperm. One or the other. Holy crap, both! Why am I flipping out- well, I think it's any one of the following reasons (feel free to comment with your answer choice):

A. I have incredible female intuition and can sense that this isn't going to happen.

B. I always envision the worst case scenario, so as not to get my hopes up only to be dumped on later.

C. I read way too many books, magazines, blogs and watch way too many TLC shows that focus on fertility problems and so now have convinced myself that I have one.

or

D. I am a perfectionist at heart and when something doesn't happen for me right away- I give up and conclude that I am a loser. A big, fat, infertile loser.

Well, I think it's E- all of the above. Or F- I'm a super genius and am RIGHT!

I don't want to be the dog lady! I love my dog, but come on! Of course I want a family. And since we've been married for two years and I'm not getting any younger, EVERYONE asks me if we're planning to start a family. I bet I get asked this at least twice a week. You know, in between all the baby shower invitations, pregnancy announcements, and birth announcements I receive- we've got to throw in a few, "So, are you pregnant yet?" or, "When are you going to start trying?" "Don't wait too long!" or, my personal favorite, "Do I need to come in and get the job done for ya, Sean?" (imagine that last one in an Irish accent).

Even my students get in on it! Imagine the first day of school...

Kid: Do you have kids, Mrs. Hale?

Me: No. I don't.

Kids: Well, you're married aren't you?

Me: Yes, I am married.

Kid: Well, that's what married people do. They have kids. Why don't you have kids?



Imagine a couple months later...

Kid 1: Mrs. Hale, are you going to have a baby?

Me: Maybe someday.

Kid 1: Are you going to ask God for a baby?

Me: Good idea...

Kid 2: Are you going to ask God for a boy or a girl?

Me: Haven't thought that far yet- how about we do some math?


I know, they're so cute.

I know everyone has the best of intentions- heck I've said stuff like that to people too! I know everyone means that they love us, and want us to be happy, and are just generally interested in our lives. I get it. It still sucks.

Maybe it will happen on it's own. I know. I need to calm down and just accept whatever God has planned for me. I know it. I love my life. I absolutely love being married to Sean, I love our home and our little family with Jetters and Kit Kat, I love my friends and family and my job. I have no complaints. I don't want to remember the next few years (if that's what it takes) as just "waiting to have a baby." I want to enjoy each day because I know they're limited. Why is it so easy to know exactly what you should do, but still not be able to do it? Humph.

There's just that nagging feeling from deep down somewhere (hormones, animal instinct, what?) that I NEED to have a baby. It's killing me.

Say a prayer for me, will you? If anything, just pray that I'll get over this little pity party and be a grown-up again. I know my husband will appreciate it. He gets to see this side of me a little too often...