Neither rain nor sleet not snow

Checking the mail used to be such a simple thing. You'd just go out to the mailbox, grab a handful of bills and credit card solicitations and maybe a catalog or two. No big deal. However, now that I've been dealing with infertility for the last three years, the mailbox has evolved into a an evil thing that could spew out any number of insults towards me and my lack of fertility at any moment.

I must mention that D and I have been in our house for a little over two years now. It has 4 bedrooms, a nice fenced-in back yard and is in the best school district. We bought it with the ridiculous notion that someday we would have a family to raise in that house. Why shouldn't I believe that could happen for us? I mean, we bought the house from the perfect family. He worked, and she stayed at home with her beautiful 3 year old son and 1 year old daughter. Both of their bedrooms were painted with adorable murals on the walls...airplanes in his room, butterflies and tulips in hers. They even left the swingset in the back yard for us. But, as the months and then years passed, those evil butterflies started mocking me. The swingset looked so empty and the airplanes paint had started to fade and chip. Finally we had to repaint the bedrooms and take down the swingset. I just couldn't stand looking at them anymore. But try as I might to cover up all of this stuff, I still can't get away from all of the catalogs that this woman used to get. Pottery Barn Kids, Baby Einstein, The Land of Nod...the list goes on and on. I would have thought that after this long, she would be removed from the mailing list, but nooooo. It's annoying, to say the least, but I've come to expect them.

Fast forward to the holiday season. Now my mailbox contains countless Christmas cards with pictures of smiling children of all ages. I try to make up my own little commentary of what is running through these kids heads "Just hurry up and take the picture! I'm trying to be good, but dammit it's hard to do when your mom makes you wear a sweater with a reindeer on it! Hello! Hurry up and take the picture before I have a meltdown!" That usually makes me feel a little bit less like the jealous and spiteful woman that I've become. But, I have a harder time with the cards that have pictures of TWO children, a toddler and an infant. Just a nice little reminder that not only do I not have any kids, but also that I've been lapped TWICE by this fertile woman. Nice.

So, as you can see, I've come to hate checking my mail, especially this time of year. Not only because of the baby catalogs and child-infested Christmas cards...no, no, no. Now I am getting things from the IVF clinic too. Mostly it is insurance related, and I even got a holiday card from them too. But Saturday I got something new. Along with three child infested Christmas cards and a Toys-R-Us catalog, I got the copy of my protocol in the mail. I opened it and immediately felt like I got kicked in the stomach. Seeing all that medicine listed right there on paper made me feel weak in the knees. My hands started shaking a little bit and I had to put it to the side for a moment so I could open the last letter. It was hand addressed, so I figured it was another CICC, but no, not this one. It was a baby shower invitation. Perfect. Needless to say, I put it down and promptly dissolved into a puddle of tears. Merry Christmas.