Of Frogs and Outcomes

My yesterday started with me climbing out of bed to get dressed. And stepping on a loving gift that one of my cats had left for me beside my bed. And it just happened to be something that bursts when you stand on it. From what I could make out as I tried my best not to add some of my supper to the mess scraped the gooey remnants from my footsole, it appeared to be a frog. And that set the tone for the remainder of what turned out to be Cycle Day One.

And this is what I spent the remainder of Cycle Day 1 doing...

- Asking God to help me be ok.
- Had lunch at a friend's house. Where there happened to be some other friends invited who had their baby three weeks ago.
- Endured much ooh-ing and ahh-ing.
- Asking God to give us a baby, for Robin's sake and not for mine. I'm done asking for myself.
- Holding friend's baby and wishing it was mine.
- Praising God for life. And asking Him to help me reconcile the fact that I probably will never hold my own baby. And to help me be ok with that eventuality.
- More ooh-ing and ahh-ing.
- Listened to lots of unsolicited advice from old aunties who have heard that I should just adopt and I'll miraculously fall pregnant soon after that.
- Refrained from telling them that right now it is impossible for a white South African to adopt. That I had personally phoned twelve adoption agencies and not ONE of them had been willing to even write down my name, because their waiting lists are 11,000 strong. And that if we were to adopt a baby with a different ethnic group to mine, I'd have to raise that child exactly as if I were it's ethnic equal. Which I wouldn't be able to do. Seeing as I am, unfortunately, not a Zulu. Or Xhosa. And therefore do not know how to raise a child as one.
- Nodded and said "Yes, I have heard stories like that before."
- Spent a lot of time staring at the baby and wondering if they would be able to catch me if I grabbed her and made a dash into the mountains considering my chances of ever acquiring having one of my own.
- Listened to four of the women talk about how "next time I fall pregnant, I'll definitely not have an epidural." And trying my best to look comfortable.
- Wondered if my friends would ever get past the Babymaking Age.
- Wondered if I would ever make it to the other side.
- Looked forward to the ripe old age of fifty, by which age, surely, I would no longer have to juggle wanting to spend time with my friends and wanting to avoid them because they are either pregnant, or trying to fall pregnant, or nursing, or only talking about how cute their little one is because they're now walking / talking / sitting on their own / starting school soon.
- Wondered if I would still have anything in common with them, by then.
- Thanked God that at least one of my friends will never have children, because of circumstances in her life which don't allow for it.
- Felt guilty for being so selfish.
- Asked God to forgive me for being resentful.
- Tried not to weep when Robin held the baby and remembered again that if it weren't for ME, he'd have been a father years ago already.
- Begged God to grant our request for a child, for Robin's sake. Again.
- Listened to some more unsolicited advice from grannies who never had problems conceiving, but who have all the answers.
- Eventually escaped Came home and had friends come to visit.
- Including the one I'm convinced is pregnant!

Am I a sucker for punishment or what?