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I hate myself for this post

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This is a mean old ugly Working Infertile Bitch (WIB) post, so if you’re in the “happy positive bright side of IF everything looks up” kind of mode, I wouldn’t recommend reading further. My “happy place” levels have been fluctuating drastically. I’m sure I’ll be content again one day, but not today. No sir, not today. I blame this post on the 12 chin/neck hairs I plucked over the weekend, and the facial hot waxing kit I ordered off Amazon which arrived in the mail today. Fun times! Nothing screams “feminine” like piping hot face wax. My PCOS symptoms are getting worse…I can feel something is totally off in my body, and it’s driving me insane to be unable to put my finger on it.

The post I’m about to write has me cringing in shame just a bit because it’s about my sister who may be one of the nicest human beings ever. She lives a quiet/”crunchy” life in Santa Cruz and volunteers with Downs Syndrome kids. She has suffered from dyslexia and seizures her entire life. She is medicated for depression. She was abusing opiates and pain killers in her teens, and was “homeschooled” by my certifiably insane stepmother who failed to teach her basic math, so at this point, my sister can’t even do long division. In those ways, I don’t envy my sister. She has had her fair share of hard knocks.

But there’s one thing she can do that I can’t.

Can you take a wild guess?

Play mah jong?


Dance the watusi?

Good guess, but no. And for those of you interested in learning, click here. Or better yet, click here for a real 60s couple watusi-ing.Quite riveting.

My little sister, who was supported financially by my father until she got married at the age of 24, and who has never had to shlep her ass to a full time job in her life, is good at getting pregnant.

She and her hippie do-gooder husband have barely enough money to get by, but she was able to get pregnant the first time they “tried”. Her husband goes to work helping mentally retarded adults for little pay (he’s another incredibly lovely and selfless¬† human being) and she stays at home with¬† my 13 month old nephew making him organic baby food, going on play dates to the aquarium, and keeping the house nice for her husband.

Meanwhile, I’ve been pulling ridiculous hours at my job this week, driving 2 hours a day in work traffic, and dealing with a myriad of annoying office personalities that I have to grin and bear so that I can keep my paycheck. All while seriously contemplating shaving my face and trying to find a new marriage counselor.

Today she emailed a link to her new blog that details all of her home schooling methods she’s using on her son, complete with pics of their trips to a Santa Cruz nursing home where she totes along my nephew to give the old folks something to coo over in their last dying days.

It’s so fucking perfect I want to vomit.

My jealousy and anger that she can wake up to the sounds of her son vs am alarm clock, that her day is spent adjusting to her son’s needs, and not an alcoholic boss’s demands, that she doesn’t have to work from 8-6 in a window-less office, and instead can push a stroller outside and smell daisies with her son while she preps her fertile uterus for another child which I’m sure will be coming down the pipe soon makes me so green with envy that I hate myself for thinking these thoughts. I want to be happy for my sister…and I just can’t be. Not right now, at least. Right now, I’m a Working Infertile Bitch who looks at maternity leave not just as a happy occasion to spend bonding time with a newborn, but as an excuse for a PAID VACATION. And puh-lease don’t tell this WIB that having a newborn is hard work, harder than I’ll ever imagine, harder than any full time job in the world, because I seriously would KILL to wipe up baby shit and spit up right now for a myriad of reasons one being that I would avoid rush hour traffic. Plus, I don’t sleep through the night anyway. Bring on the colic.

I know there are many women who stay at home with or without kids…I know that some of you are staying at home, and planning to after your children are born, and I feel so bad that I have such a chip on my shoulder about it all right now. I hate myself for feeling jealous about this…I hate that I have barely spoken to my sister since she had my nephew…I’m pretty much the worst aunt in the world. I also know that logically, I would go absolutely ape shit bananas if I didn’t have my job and was left to my own devices at home…. But reading about how my fertile sister gets to meander where the day takes her, keeping a schedule only for her and her son, sleeping in when she wanted to while she was pregnant, meditating, journaling, contemplating the meaning of the tiny human she was making…I just want to look up and scream at the sky, “Look at me! Am I not doing enough???? Can you throw me a fucking bone, please? Is three meager months of MAT LEAVE too much to ask?”

I’ll let you all know how my facial hair wax goes this evening. I’ll be sure to watusi when I’m done.

GOD life is awesome right now.

Please excuse this WIB.