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I was just pouring my wine for the Super Bowl party.  Friends and family were tucked into the corners of my home balancing chips and dip with their drink.  The TV volume was turned up too high and everyone was trying to be heard in their own conversation while waiting for the game to start.  A friend of mine leaned in close to me and mentioned she couldn’t wait till I had some baby news to share with her.  I poured more wine into my glass than normal.  I ignored her comment.  She suggested that when everyone leaves then my Husband and I should go in and make a Super Bowl baby.  I nod my head and take a big ass gulp of Chardonnay.

This isn’t the first time she has made these comments.  Always while I’m pouring a glass of wine, she will mention that I obviously don’t have the big news yet.  She’ll make them again next week and the week after and so will others.

I walked away with my glass of wine and stepped over her kids who were trying to kill one another.  I found a seat and eyed the husband across the room until we made eye contact and I could exchange a look with him.  Every couple has those looks they can share. The entire conversation in one stare.  He glanced from me to the other woman and knew.  He offered me a smile because what else is there to say or do.  In the room full of people there was only one other couple that had somewhat of an idea of how the comments sting.

I later sat with the woman who would understand and we whispered about her recent appointments so others would not hear.  But not the advice filled woman.  No, she came over to pipe in again.  Offering up her opinion and making it into this cute, happy, just get drunk and fuck process.  Well, that may have worked for her but here was me and another woman and we are beyond the basics of what they taught us in sex ed, thank you very much.

It was much later in the night after people started heading home and I had too much wine in me.  The girl was also a little drunk and offered up another bit of advice about going on in to make a baby.  Without hesitation or care for anyone around me I offered back a retort that tonight I don’t want to make a Super Bowl baby.  I don’t even want to have sex with my Husband tonight.  I don’t want to go make a baby to make you fucking happy.  I don’t want to pee on sticks or worry about how our appointment is going to go at the end of the month. I want to drink a glass of wine, enjoy the company of everyone and just live right now without you throwing in my face, daily, that I’m not fucking pregnant.

I’m sorry, was that rude?  There is support and there is not having manners.  I’m tired of making everyone else comfortable with me not getting pregnant.

Everyone left and I sat, exhausted, with my Husband on the couch.  He grabbed my hand.  I closed my eyes and lingered in my buzzed state of mind.  I let go of the anger.  Took another deep breath and let that one go.  A few more deep breaths later I calmed down and let it all go.  The comments will come again but what happens behind our closed doors at night and how we handle this is for us.