The Eagle Has Landed

Today was the first day of my two-week wait. Since I just had the transfer of eggs yesterday, it was mostly a bed rest day and I’ve got to tell you, I don’t have much to report other than my ceiling needs a new coat of white paint and daytime television pretty much sucks.

For some reason, while I laid there collecting dust, the thing I kept thinking about the most were all the friends and family that have gotten pregnant in the time Sam and I have been trying. I wasn’t thinking about them in a bitter way or even in a competitive way. It was more that I was impressed. There was one point in the past year that I began to think that if I even alluded to a friend that we were thinking of starting a family, that friend in particular would soon get knocked up. This is why I eventually only started telling menopausal women and gay men.

One particular case popped into my head today that I have to share with you. Awhile back, I was on the phone with my childhood friend, Julie. At the time, Julie had a two-year-old daughter and she was telling me that they were thinking of trying for a second child. I confided in her that we were thinking of trying as well. Enthusiastically, she exclaimed, “That’s great! Let’s get pregnant together!” This is so easier said than done.

It was exactly six months later when I received a seemingly chipper voice mail from Julie. I was dreading calling her back. I had no happy news to report and I was certain that she did. I felt like we made this pact, and I didn’t live up to my part. Still, I sucked it up and returned her call. She, of course, was pregnant. I gave her my congratulations, and asked the standard questions, “When are you due?”, “How are you feeling?”, “Do you know what you’re having?” and as soon as we were done, I tried quickly changing the topic to something desperately fascinating such as Astroturf, but I had no luck. She immediately asked, “Sooooo, what about you? Any babies? What’s the hold up?” I did my best to give her a quick answer and move on with the first thing I could think of. I responded with, “Nothing to report on this end. So, how are Matt’s hemorrhoids?“

Now Julie is a great person. She deserves every happiness and I have nothing but love and respect for her. She’s smart, kind, and she has always been a good friend. However, she didn’t seem to take my cue of not wanting to talk about it. Instead, she told me a story about how she recently went hiking with her husband and daughter the previous weekend. She described in great detail how she sat on top of a mountain with her family, and saw a bald eagle fly by. She said to be pregnant, filled with life, surrounded by nature with an incredible view and to see such a majestic bird was just so incredibly life affirming. Perhaps she should have just come over and kicked me.

I avoided sharing with her that on the very same weekend she was on the mountain with her family, I was in the basement of a Kmart by myself bleeding from my period surrounded by marked down clothes. I didn’t see a bald eagle… but I saw a bald man wearing an Eagles shirt.

To be clear, I’m happy for anyone and everyone who has managed to get pregnant without hormone shots and boatload of cash. If the only thing you purchased to start a family was a bottle of tequila, than more power to you. Heck, you could even name your kid Jose Cuervo for all I care. I only ask that if you know your friend wants to have a baby too, and they are not yet knocked up, you may want to avoid sharing with them your life affirming, pregnant, bald eagle story. Save it for THE VIEW. From what I saw today, they could use a life affirming story.