Today at lunch, I walked in to the main room where the other teachers eat lunch, and one of the teacher's husband had brought their baby for a visit to mommy. I've been making an effort to eat lunch with them again since my seclusion during IVF, but god damn, I don't want to spend my lunch with a baby who looks so much like his dad that all it does is remind me that I will never have a baby that looks like my husband.
So I held in the sadness until I got home, so now the tears are flowing.
Fuck. I was doing so well too. So much for National Infertility Awareness Week. Apparently, my co-workers don't give a shit, or are too clueless to realize that a lunch spent with a baby or talking about babies constantly (brought on by the presence of the other baby) might not be easy for me. I guess I'm just supposed to avoid them because none of them have enough sensitivity to actually make sure I am included in the conversation. Fuck 'em.