…I want some fucking romance!

Go ahead, trying outting yourself as an infertile in public.

Studies show that within thirty-seven seconds, somebody will tell you that having kids isn’t that great, pregnancy isn’t that big of a deal, and that infertile women in general have no idea what it’s really like to have a baby and are just romanticizing the whole experience.

Appropriate responses are as follows:

• “No, I’m not.”
• “Yes, I am.”
• “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!  Ever since I had surgery for my tendinitis, my fist just flies out like that!  Are you okay?”
•  ”I’m sorry, your point is…?”

As far as I’m concerned, they’re all good answers, although you may want to have a kickass lawyer on retainer if you intend to rely heavily on the third one.

I’ve just about hit passed my tolerance point for this particular steaming pile.  Of course people without children romanticize the idea of having children.  They have to, otherwise nobody would ever want to have children in the first place.

This is probably true.  Everybody who wants to have children always starts out with a dogeared collection of well loved imaginary scenarios.

• The nights of carefree sex
• The triumphant two line stick
• The glowing pregnancy
• The easy, empowering birth
• The contented infant at the breast
• The coos and giggles

I could go on, but I’m starting to have Home Pregnancy Test commercial flashbacks (“I don’t get that ad, honey.  She said ‘It’s how I knew Benjamin was coming.’  What, the stick had a window marked ‘positive,’ ‘negative,’ ‘Benjamin?’  What the fuck kind of pregnancy test was she using?”).

My point isn’t that infertile women do or don’t romanticize the whole thing.  For the most part, I think we don’t.  Let’s face it, infertility pretty much robs you of your faith that life will turn out the way you expected it to.  My point is that we should.

Wait, what?

No, really.  I think we should romanticize it.  If we don’t, it’s just one more thing that infertility has taken away from us.  We have the right to be stupidly optimistic and happy-fluffy-bunny as much as the next woman.  Why should we give up our pretty fantasies?  We have the right to dream, to imagine, to secretly hope.

We have the right to be innocent.

The next time some assclown tries to take you down a peg because you’ve got your head in the clouds and they want to tell you all about how horrible it is to have children, don’t let them get away with it.

Call them on it.

Tell them that it’s unkind to deny a person their innocence.