I'll be honest... Before I met my husband, I hated Cupid's guts. Valentine's Day to me was just another one of those dopey holidays that made people with nobody feel crappy and people with somebody feel obligated to spend too much money for no apparent reason. Sometimes infertility doesn't make us feel too romantic towards that partner person of ours. Sometimes, it makes us say unromantic things like: "What's the point of you touching my woo-hoo when I'm not ovulating?" Or: "Get off of me you sweaty son of a.... There's a 'Real Housewives of Beverly Hills' marathon on and somehow your 22 inch ass is blocking the 32 inch screen."
From the time I met my husband, Valentine's Day became a pretty big deal. Yes, we're romantic: Flowers, candy, lingerie I have no business wearing and with each passing year I have less and less business wearing...
But it's also a big deal for us because my husband is precisely nine days older than I. And Valentine's Day, as luck would have it, falls smack dab in between our two birthdays. Sometimes I wonder if we only stay together because, if we ever broke up, we'd have to find separate mental institutions to spend February in. I can just picture each of us sequestered under the sheets in the dark room, peering out only long enough to grab the paper cup with the pill in it and to ask the nurse: "Is it March yet? Please tell me it's March."
I really don't give a damn if most people celebrate Valentine's Day or not. (Don't you love when the guy proposes on Valentine's Day and she never saw it coming?) But I do think Valentine's Day should be special for infertile couples.
First of all, a big plus about the idiotic day is: There's not much you have to avoid. There's really nothing about the day that involves kids. You don't have to see kids. You don't have to see photos of kids. You don't have to celebrate at a place that allows kids. In fact, people who have kids, if they're smart, shove them over to somebody else's house and, for four or five hours, pretend they don't exist. (Just don't be a dumbass and let it be YOUR house.)
So Valentine's Day to me, is a fantastic excuse for couples dealing with infertility BS to put it all aside and rekindle, recuddle, renew, reconnect, recanoodle ...
Because, well, I don't play poker, but even I know that an arrow in the heart beats a syringe in the ass any day.
Screw spending the day cherishing your Valentine. Spend the whole month. If you got a good one over there warming the other side of the bed--celebrate it.
That's what we'll be discussing this month: Valentines-the good, the bad, and the ugly... from sucko Valentine's Day experiences to friends who had a Valentine who did unforgivable things on Valentine's Day whom she of course not only forgave but married.
So, today, I say: Go hand in hand with your honey to a museum exhibit dedicated to Martin Luther King Jr.... There you go... You got Valentine's Month and Black History Month covered in one cheap date.
Listen I gotta go. I somehow got tangled up in my Valentine's Month negligee. My husband can't get me out of it. I can't get me out of it. Geez I hope we can do something with scissors. It's really going to kill the mood if the fire department has to come with the jaws of life.... Not to mention that I'd really hate guys that look like that to see me looking like this. Charlotte hanging herself in her own fricken red web.
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