Holidays: I'm Not Convinced (Tuesday)

This will be a short blogging week for me. (If anyone just said "Yeah!", or "Woo-hoo!" or gave a double thumbs-up sign, I swear I'll come out there and slap you.) It's just that I find myself this week sandwiched between holidays. (As Yom Kippur, a day of fasting, approaches, you'll be hearing me use more and more edible vocabulary. I crack under the pressure this time every year.)

I frankly have some problems with holidays in general. If you read my Mother's Day posts in May, you'll know this to be true.  

And for those with fertility issues "going home" for the holidays, whatever holiday it might be... even labor day... (and why do they have to call it "labor" day anyway damn them!)  can really freak us out.

How can you not dread the family firing squad?

1) Are you still trying to have a baby?

2) You're not doing that fertility drug stuff are you?

3) Oh great you're pregnant! Or have you just gained some weight?

And the kids running around making you feel like their parents are flaunting them: Throwing them in your face.

And the whispers right before you walk into the room or just as you're leaving it.

And worse... the ones whom you know are dying to grill you like a cheese sandwich but talk about nonsense to avoid the big white elephant in the room.

They don't talk about your teeny apartment because you might think they mean: "You have no kids. You don't need more room."

They won't ask if you've gone back to school because that might imply: "You have all this free time because you don't have kids."

They don't talk about the war in Iraq because someone might mention all of the sons and daughters that people have lost.

They don't talk about yard sales because everyone associates yard sales with getting rid of baby clothes.

So they look down at their shoes, mumble a half-ass compliment about your nail polish and off they go.

Let me tell you something: Newsflash! I really do think holidays with their big family brouhahas are largely dreaded by MOST people: Infertility and non-infertility sufferers alike-- no matter how much they deny it.

And this is why: A lot of people only get together with their extended families once or twice a year: Labor day barbecue, Easter let's say.

There are a lot of skeletons that can accumulate in a closet between those two annual get-togethers.

So many in fact, some families should consider moving their big Christmas shindig to Halloween.

So what do non-fertility sufferers not want to talk about at family functions?

Tomorrow we'll rattle some of those bones and see what pops out of their closets... Who knows? It could be a cross-dressing uncle. Or perhaps a kleptomaniac cousin.

Listen I gotta go. I have to start fasting now: A week before Yom Kippur's that I'll fit into the dress I want to wear on Yom Kippur. If I wait until the Yom Kippur fast, it'll be too late. 

I'll talk with ya again tomorrow.