My Infertile Girdle.

Today, oh today. I had my second day at work today. It went fine. Love my manager--very warm, yet direct person. Nice company. It's looking good, and I'm excited to go shopping tomorrow for boots and sweaters.

So this lady comes in, tries on some things, then comes out of the dressing room. My manager asks if everything worked, and the lady says yes, except for "this sweater, which shows my tummy rolls." OK, fair enough. She goes on: "You know, after you've had kids, no matter how hard you work, there is always that little roll that just won't go away. You can tell when someone's had kids--it changes your whole shape." Then she looks at me, and speaks to my manager: "She's obviously never had kids. So lucky." OK, I realize I should take that as a compliment. And I did. But when you're an Infertile Freddy like me, you just log these things in your brain. It's like, you don't have a baby to show for the years of work and dreaming and failure, so instead, you collect these little comments and pin them on like badges. (Badges? We don't need no stinkin' badges.) And they don't go away. I wasn't really offended. I knew she didn't mean to be offensive. And neither did the friend who suggested that Heavenly Father knew I didn't "want it enough" or proclaimed that I didn't have enough faith. Or the regular who came into the restaurant I used to work at who saved up the money for in-vitro to have a second child, then decided to buy a boat instead. I think that's why they stick. Because they come from friends. Or in the grocery store. Or at work. They're unexpected and sometimes come when you least expect them to. Or worse, when you're looking for comfort and you open up, and then you're reminded that although the unthinking friend meant well, you really are alone in this. But anyway, like I said, I wasn't really offended. Oh, and I got some really great advice! I told her we'd been trying for a while (what can I say, I still want to be a part of this grouchy mommy club) and she told me that her husband is a physician, and to put cinnamon in everything I eat. (I didn't say what I was thinking: what is he, a podiatrist? ...Cinnamon??? Yeah, that'll open those fallopian tubes right up.)

I just got home from Young Women's, where I taught the girls how to make turnovers. OK, so I watched them have flour fights and never really got the chance to show them much, but I think they had fun. I really love my calling, even if I need to learn how to be a little more authoritative.

Time for bed and sleeeeeep.