Some things that run through my head lately, mostly related to my Bitter Infertilie side:

“I don’t even remember what I did before I was pregnant … mmmmm” (Garfunkel & Oates, yo)

“I want that for my husband.”

“I must be drinking the wrong water.”

“You don’t know it’s going to happen.”

“I’m glad God has you on his Good Plans list. Must be nice.”

“No shit you don’t have any experience. Want to tell me more about how you don’t have to go through what I’m going through?”

“I’m too tired to explain why I’m doing what I’m doing, so I’m just going to smile and nod at you.”

“Preeeeeegnant women are smug / Everyone knows it, nobody says it / Because they’re pregnant” (G&O, yo!)

“You’re ridiculous, but I don’t care enough to get into it.”

“When did I end up surrounded by bellies and babies? Is this the Twilight Zone?”

“Why again am I going through this?”

“Your pregnancy/baby don’t bother me. It’s you and the assinine things you say.”

“I really don’t belong here.”

“Wow. Pregnancy really brought out the ugly in her face. Well, I hope it was the pregnancy.”

“I think your fetus ate your life.”

“I miss the days when I could look at a baby/pregnant woman/mom without holding my breath and wondering if I’m going to feel sad.”

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Some of my thoughts are downright ugly. Some are just snarly. Some are sad. Many might make some of you judge me. Many might make Future Me want to go back into the past and kick Current Me squarely in the pants.

Whatever reactions the thoughts inspire, they’re mine – past, present, recurring – and they’re part of this journey I’m on.