The Fertile Riff-Raff Among US (What? What Did I Say?) (Tuesday)

Is it wrong to refer to fellow women (love a good oxymoron, don't you?) as Fertile Riff-Raff?  Look, there are some wonderful, amazing couples out there, a few anyway, one or two maybe, who stand on their front steps, hands on their hips, bull horn in hand, and proclaim to adoring crowds: "We are ready to have a baby!"

Then they go back inside, look at each other lovingly while music from Dr. Zhivago plays in the background, or maybe Johnny Mathis as he literally sweeps her off her feet, carries her into the boudoir and closes the door with his foot.  

A month later, they're  back on those front steps, he has his arm around her for support, she has one hand on her stomach, the other over her mouth as she announces:

"I don't feel so good" and spends the rest of the morning and every morning thereafter for the better part of a trimester doing a headstand in the potty.   

We may get that twinge in our stomachs when someone really fantastic like that just blinks her eyes like Jeannie and voila she's having a baby.

But when you're trying to get pregnant and you can't, and weeks turn into months, and months turn into years and it still ain't happening, you suddenly realize it's getting harder and harder to turn your head away from the observation you made so long ago, but tried not to acknowledge: 

There is absolutely no justice in who gets pregnant easily and who doesn't.

Is it jealousy? Sure it is. And just like hormones, the cost of treatments, the monthly disappointments, and moquitoes at a concert in the park in the summertime:  It will eat you alive if you let it. So let's not let it.  

So this week, we're going to chat, discuss, and primal scream about all kinds of women who have no business having babies before us:

The Clueless, The Irresponsible, The Nasty, The Ill-prepared, The Immature,  The Way Too Young,  The Way Too Old, The Selfish, etc

So consider this week here at Laughing IS Conceivable to be Preventative Medicine Week ...Heavy on the "Vent".

Listen I gotta go. I've got to shoot off my firecrackers and put my flag up outside. I know. I'm always late for everything.  I'll talk with ya tomorrow.