You Might Be An Infertile If…
You Might be an Infertile: If you can think of something more, be sure to leave it in the comments. I’ve gotten so many more, I felt the need to post it again!
If somebody has ever asked you the date, and you said Day 21.
If you have ever counted 1, 2, 3 after sex, and thrown your ankles above your head for an absurd amount of time.
If you forget that the entire world doesn’t know what an HSG is.
If you have ever had to flip your pillow over because it is tear soaked.
If it has ever felt strange to not take your clothes off at a doctors appointment.
If you’ve had three people in a room look at your hoohaa and it not make you uncomfortable.
If you wake up and the first thing you reach for isn’t a cup of coffee but a thermometer.
If you circle the days you have sex on your planner.
If you have ever seen your internal organs on a plasma tv.
If you reach into your fridge and instead of getting milk you accidentally grab a hand full of needles, injection pens, or vials.
If the sound of an infant’s cry is the equivalent of pure torture.
If you’ve put your feet in stirrups more times than you’ve had sex in a week.
If you have ever tried the following to get pregnant: Getting completely intoxicated, sex in the back of car, smoked after sex, in every position created, with a condom on, drinking more V8 juice, propping your hips up, acupuncture.
If you’ve ever displayed a chart of your temperature, cervical position and mucus, and times you’ve had sex on your fridge.
If you’ve ever played the “I’ll be pregnant by then” game for longer than a year.
If you’ve ever been caught staring longingly at a pregnant woman’s belly.
If you’ve ever wondered if it would be considered a threesome if the two nurses in the room and yourself manage to get you pregnant.
If you have ever brought a turkey baster and egg whites into your bedroom.
If you have ever had to leave an event because it is a non negotiable nookie night.
If the most action you’ve seen in a while is the camera that closely resembles a vibrator your doctor’s office uses.
If you feel the need to check your underwear more times in an hour than Brad and Angelina have been photographed in the past year.
If you feel bad ass by simply drinking a caffeinated beverage.
If you’ve ever shot up in a bathroom stall and it was perfectly legal.
If you’ve ever had to come out of the closet, and you aren’t gay.
If you feel like you are constantly speaking in acronyms that nobody seems to understand.
If you find it perfectly normal to pee on a stick, insert it into a machine, and wait to be told if your husband is definitely going to get lucky that night.
If you have ever banned a sexual position and lubricant because it isn’t beneficial to baby making.
If hearing the words “baby dust” sends you into a raging tizzy.
If you avoid baby sections of department stores, baby showers, or infants in general.
If you have seen your doctor, shrink, and acupuncturist more than your girlfriends lately.
If you know more about your reproductive organs and the female body than all of your girlfriends combined.
If getting pregnant doesn’t technically need to involve sex.
If you have ever thrown a pregnancy test, and firmly believe that they are a ploy put out there by big business to make money.
If you have ever been placed on birth control to achieve pregnancy.
If you have put out more money for medications than vacations in the past year.
If you measure your life in two week increments. If you avoid alcohol, smoking, hot baths, hot tubs, saunas, and caffeine.
If you can’t remember life before prenatal vitamins.
You glare at parents who don’t truly appreciate their children, and scowl at the ones who complain.
You literally laugh at people who ask when you are going to have children.
With the money you’ve paid for fertility treatments you could have bought yourself a summer home in Fiji.
You actually hate one of your body parts.
You honestly believe that wearing white underwear or purchasing a pregnancy test will bring on your period.
If the most beautiful picture you have ever seen are your embryos.
You have no problems discussing cervical mucus, your period, sexual positions, or the color of whatever IT is that is leaking out of you.
If your husband has gotten some afternoon delight, and it wasn’t with you or in your bedroom.
If you actually know how thick your uterus is, how many sperm your husband has, or how many follicles you have.
If you find it a miracle that people actually mangage to get pregnant.
If you completely understand that just because you are pregnant doesn’t mean you will stay that way.
You have had to leave a movie theater or change the television station.
If you have ever yelled at Gray’s Anatomy or ER for completely misrepresenting the truth.
If you can’t remember the last time you bought condoms.
If your medical file is thicker than a Bible.
If you become obsessed with the numbers, your uterine lining, cells, sperm, embryos, follicles…
If you can’t fathom walking into a room and saying, “I’m pregnant honey. Surprise!”
If after giving birth you actually have survivor’s guilt.
If you have a degree from Google Med and an advanced degree from WebMD.
You’ve honestly considered buying a white lab coat and having your name monogramed on it, because you know nearly as much as your doctor.
If you refer to events in DPOs.
You’ve analyzed your saliva for patterns that would indicate you are ovulating.
You have ever wondered if you are actually having sex wrong.
You are on a first name basis with your pharmacist.
You worry that your doctor’s office will think you are neurotic, and you pace the floors while waiting for their phone call.
You have ever seriously considering punching somebody for telling you to relax, and would feel completely justified in doing so.
You have a stockpile of pregnancy tests from the dollar store, so you don’t feel guilty for wasting the more expensive ones.
If the word cycling has nothing to do with riding a bike.
If you could swear that anybody standing within a hundred feet could actually hear your biological clock ticking.
If you’ve ever volunteered to put medications in your hind end to achieve pregnancy.
If you’ve ever agrued with your spouse about which method you are going to use to try and get pregnant next.
If you’ve ever had to complete a yearly syphllis test.
If two weeks out of every month your spouse treats you like you are made of glass.
If people when people talk about their children you are reduced to tears.
If you’ve ever carried on a conversation with your ovaries or considered redocorating your uterus because someone told you it was inhospitable.
If you’ve ever called something a frosty and you weren’t at Wendy’s.
If you’ve ever considered hugging a pregnant woman just so a little bit of that *something* would rub off on you.
If birthdays are just one more reminder that you have one less year to cross the reproductive finish line.
If you’ve ever found youself yelling at your spell checker, because IUI and IVF are real abbreviations for some important procedures and damn the creator for not including them in their programming!
If you’ve ever envied another woman’s spouse not for his good looks and charm, but for his sperm count, motility, or morphology.
You’ve ever considered becoming an eight grade health teacher, because yours clearly had no clue what she was talking about.
Your birds and the bees discussion with your child reads more like a medical dissertation.
If you’ve ever been thankful for having a fat roll, as it makes injections more comfortable.
If you take more medication than your seventy year old grandmother.