St Patrick's Day: The Luck O' the Infertile

(Please check out my ebook by clicking the icon to the right or at www.amazon.com/dp/B007G9X19AFree Chapter Previews & Reviews from Top Fertility Experts and Infertile Folk.)

Maybe it's just me, but I feel like as every new month begins and each holiday in it approaches, all infertile people collectively suck in a deep breath, hold it and panic: "Oh no, it's another holiday. Will there be parties and gatherings I don't want to attend? Will I have to come up with yet another reason why I can't? Will I have to listen to endless stories about everybody's kids' milestones? Will I have to stand there for twenty minutes, waiting for some schmuck to figure out how his SmartPhone works so he can show me pictures of them?"

And here comes St. Patrick's Day. While I lived in NYC, I went to the St Patrick's Day parade every year and regretted it every year. It seemed like it was always cold, dreary weather. Hundreds of NYC police officers proudly marched down Fifth Avenue. On the one hand, being a New Yorker I felt incredible pride, on the other hand, being a New Yorker, I wondered who the hell would come if I got attacked on the way back home after the parade and called 911? The cops who didn't have enough seniority to get the afternoon off to be in the parade?

When you're trying to get pregnant you live on eggshells from one holiday to the next. At least that's how it was for me. I always loved August. The one month of the year with no major holidays. Finally! A thirty-one day long break from ill-will towards others. So of course both my mother and my mother-in-law decided to die in August to fk that up for me. Should I have not taken that personally?

I understand that holidays probably don't affect regular people as negatively as they affect infertile people. I accept that most people don't have a strong reaction to the lesser ones like Ground Hog's Day or Arbor Day. That's because most of the rest of the world doesn't spend every day and night staring at the wall calendar.

"Look it's Secretaries' Day: It's been 14 days since I ovulated. It's been 8 days since my embryo transfer. It's been 26 days since my last menstrual cycle. And in just 3590 more days I'll be 45 and probably eggless."

There are only two reasons I can see why St Patrick's Day would bother infertile people: 1) That fixation I just mentioned about staring at the calendar which makes every holiday seem like a major letdown or milestone to us. 2) When you're going through infertility you're so absorbed in all your own stuff, somehow some way St Patrick's Day must be all about you too. We're not sure how, but if we obsess on it long enough, there must be some very good, extremely logical reason why we're dreading St Patrick's Day. There's just gotta be. Maybe it's one of these:

1) St Patrick was the patron saint of fertility 2) St Patrick was the patron saint of insurance that covers nothing 3) St Patrick was the patron saint of slow sperm 4) St Patrick was the patron saint of blocked fallopian tubes 5) St Patrick was the patron saint of relatives who don't mind their own business 6) St Patrick was the patron saint of paper examination gowns that fit like a big doily.

Or...maybe we just dread St Patrick's Day because we're taking medications and can't go to a pub and get stinkin' drunk on St Patrick's Day like all our moronic fertile friends.

(Please check out my ebook at the icon to the right or at www.amazon.com/dp/B007G9X19A Free chapter previews and reviews from top fertility experts and infertile folk)