Anger: Not Just For Breakfast Anymore (Friday)

(Start with "Monday" if you can. Anger is like a child: It grows so fast. One day it's a little itty bitty infant anger, and then you wake up one morning and it's driving your car 120 MPH.) So, what was I talking about? Oh right. How one of the most anger-producing things to those dealing with infertility is: "Fertility Overachievers". Like the woman in Utah who happens to be pregnant in not one, but both, of her two uteruses, uteri, uteronomy...whatever it is.

Then there are the "Fertility Overachievers,' who "pile on". For those not versed in football: When one team is beating the daylights out of the other and continues to do its best to score more points even though the other team has no realistic chance of catching up, that's "piling on" (as in "piling on the points.")

It's the same with infertility. Here are millions of people trying their best to have even one child. And then there are these "Fertility Overachievers" who keep piling on the kids, apparently, just to spite us.

First there's of course, (I know you're sick of her) the Octomom. First she had six kids, then twins, then triplets, then octuplets, then sextuplets, then plastic surgery, then her own show, then another set of octuplets, then triplets.

She's obviously going for the infertility hat-trick or cycle or triple crown or grand slam or whatever the sports metaphor would be for this woman and her absurd behavior.

So what is her issue? Some people are addicted to plastic surgery. She's addicted to IVF.

And who wouldn't be addicted to the glamorous life of an IVF-er?  The smell of the fertility clinic in springtime;  The raging hormones, being a human pin cushion, getting the chance to smile at a cute doctor with your crotch every few days...Who could pass it up?

Maybe next year she'll be addicted to plastic surgery, or bingo or Cheez doodles. The last would be the most benign. Instead of risking medical complications or financial ruin like the other two, she would just have orange fingernails. (And if she's ashamed to admit to being a junk food junkie, she could always tell people it's beta-carotene poisoning from too many leafy greens.) 

Or maybe she doesn't have an addiction to Assisted Reproductive Technologies. Maybe she just has a hard time making decisions. Maybe she just couldn't decide among baby names: Maliyah, Kaliyah, Jaliyah, Raliyah, Satiyah, Kariah, Paliah, Taliah and Margaret. So she just had thirty-five kids and used them all.  

Then there are the Duggars who have nineteen kids. But I haven't spoken to them recently. That may have changed. I think their issue is boredom. Boredom and an incredible lack of imagination.

They don't know what else to do but touch each other. Let's all chip in and buy them a DVD player. What do ya say? Or a ping-pong table... No. That might just send them back into their baby-making rut. Same hobby. New location.

Listen, I gotta go.  Five straight days of anger is exhausting. I need some yoga. Or maybe pizza. I'll talk with ya again on Monday.