The universe just hates me, doesn't it?

I have been delaying for a bit, but I guess I should post about my oh-so-delightful Mothers Day (heretofore known as Barren Reminder Day). Here's basically how it went down.

I opted to not attend church. I know, I should have sucked it up and just gone, but I didn't and I think it was for the best. Much as I want to have to dash out before they say "Would all the women 18 and over please stand." And much as I would love to hear endlessly about the miracle that is motherhood and the token, "But everyone can be a mother, even without children." I just thought it would be better to spend the time with the ones I love. I went on a hike/picnic with The Boy and our spazzy dogs and it was lovely. We practiced our Mandarin (Are the dogs American? A little. Would they like something to drink? Yes.) and talked about how someday we'd be able to come do this with our little girl. We speculated about what she would be like and how, somehow, it would all be worth it. If not for this, I don't think I would have been able to go to my parents house and be around my sister's new baby.

I was all relaxed and prepared to deal with it. After all, there will be plenty of people around to hold the kid, so I wont have to. I can show my mom the awesome book The Boy got us on basic Chinese characters (she speaks some Japanese and loves to see the similarities). As our therapist said, "What's the worst thing that can happen? You cry? So what...they know what's going on and will understand, and if they don't understand then screw them." (Yes, he did say that, he is magical as well). I would get through it. Oh how naive I was.

Upon arriving at my parents, my mom asks me if I got her message. Crap. No. What's going on? Apparently, a relative of mine has invited herself to dinner. no big deal, right? Dead wrong. This relative is the same one who said I was too pretty to adopt. She is notorious about saying horrible things (hence why her kids didn't want to do something with her) and she doesn't know we have even been trying to have a kid, let alone the whole story. Hoo boy, this should be interesting.

One by one, family members arrived. My SIL and I chatted a bit about things (she is incredibly supportive of us and actually shows an interest in our plans). The new baby arrived in all pomp and glory, encircled about in layers upon layers of pink, lest we forget that this is the first female grandchild. The horribly, overbearingly, powerfully spermed proud father informed everyone that if we wanted to touch the delicate flower of his loins, we would have to immerse ourselves in antibacterial gel, lest our lowly human germs disturb his heavenly creation.

Dinner was served and my relative proceeded to talk about the many injuries her kids have caused her, and how they don't love her, and how she's basically childless and she hates Mothers Day. Then she wondered why her co-worker, who had just adopted a baby, didn't appreciate the "joke" she made in telling him he had just "bought" a kid. Can't imagine why that didn't make him chuckle. Lord, beer me patience. At least it would be better after dinner, right? Sure.

Unfortunately, my new meds are not helping the pain, in fact, they are increasing it by quite a lot. Near the end of the meal, I had to ask The Boy to help me away from the table so I could lay down. My plan of making it to a spare room failed, since I about passed out trying to stand up and only made it as far as a nearby couch. I lay there trying to control my breathing and not scream, all the while my relative is sitting not ten feet from me, holding the golden one and going on and on to my sister about how she can't believe how beautiful she is, and how is such a miracle she has carried inside her, and how she must be so happy to have been able to create such a wondrous creature in her womb. If I was about to scream before, I am near to pulling the house down on myself and everyone else a la Sampson-style.

Finally, the pain subsides enough for my to put it back in it's little jar, and act like nothing is wrong. Then, my relative says the following: "You know, I would be a surrogate for you, if that is what you guys needed." No. You. Did. Not. Just. Say. That. Oh, but she did. My response? "No thanks. I don't know where your uterus has been." She was shocked that I would say something so rude, and didn't bug me about my lack of offspring for the rest of the night. Win.

It wasn't the worst day of my life, but it sucked. I thought about it alot, and I think I understand why it was so crappy (besides the obvious). Not only did I have to be around a new baby while we are having to wait so long to even start the process, but I couldn't even act like anything was wrong. I couldn't cry, because then someone who has NO business in my personal life, would find out and blab around to everyone she sees that I am barren and bitter and it's just so tragic cause I would make such beautiful babies. I had to put on my best don't-like-kids act so that I didn't have to give any indication that just being around this perfect newborn was enough to shatter every ounce of strength I had stored up. I had to lie through my teeth to everyone around me, while all but one knew what a lie it was. But hey, at least she didn't have to sit at home and wonder why none of her kids wanted to have her over for dinner.