Being infertile, pregnant bellies and newborn babies, and especially those damn teenage mothers make me run the other way. I see more of teenage mothers (the South is chock full of them) and pregnant bellies. Hardly, do I ever see newborns. I ran into one young mother dragging her new baby in the freezing cold to check the post. Surely the father, sperm donor, could check it when they got home!
The other I saw in the dermatologist's office.
I walked into the office and spot her by the door with a crying newborn. Lovely. I sit on the side of where I don't have to see her. Yet, it was depressing listening to the little being wail and the new mother struggling to do something about it. Silently, I sat there wishing that was me.
Then the patients are called back one by one, and she changes seats to where she's facing me. Are you serious right now? I frowned at her and went back to playing with my Crapberry. Thankfully, it wasn't long before the doctor saw her and wouldn't have to see her the rest of the visit. I'm really surprised my anxiety didn't start, as I started to feel a trapped in that little room.
I guess what's an Infertile Christmas without a little torture, right?
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