Our childlessness is becoming a problem for certain friends. It's getting harder for us to avoid the inevitable question: "So, when are you having kids?" But, even before we discovered that I'm infertile, we'd begun to be treated differently by some in our circle.
We haven't yet found the right time – or words – to enlighten anyone. We're still coming to terms with the diagnosis ourselves. For years, we've dutifully clucked and cooed over other people's offspring, provided last-minute babysitting and attended birthday parties. But, it's getting awkward.
We are childless and therefore not in the club. Everyone expected us to have kids by now. Certain invitations – to family-friendly events – have already started to dry up. But, that's not as bad as the sideways, pitying glances.
Now I'm starting to think I'm sick of pandering to other people's snot-nosed brats. That's unfair, I know. But, I'm angry. We're desperate to have a child. Why can other people manage to conceive and we can't? What's the point of working hard for a future we now know will never materialise? Ten years of careful saving, planning and looking forward to our own babies has been pointless.
What's the point of the house we've bought? What's the point of certain friends who are not able to relate to us? And, deep down I'm thinking, this life isn't what my husband signed up for. What if he decides to leave?
