Here’s a pet peeve of mine. Upon hearing the story of my children’s births, inevitably there is someone who will say, “See all you had to do was relax to get pregnant.” Um, no. First, saying that when I couldn’t conceive was utterly non-helpful. Saying it now is just silly and makes you sound like you think you’re omnipotent. Second, that time in my life was more stressful than any other I can remember. We’d gone through two failed matches, one of which involved an elaborate lie that kept us on the hook for over a month, and CJ’s due date was changed from September to November. His birthmother had issues of her own so contact was spotty at best. We were tied in emotional knots, trying to be excited but so scared of being let down again. And somehow in the midst of all this, one lone sperm found an egg and decided to stay long term paying no attention to John’s or my emotional states.
So, please, consider this a PSA. When you run into someone with a similar story, don’t bluster. Just be pleased for them, thank God or Fate or The Flying Spaghetti Monster or Chaos, and tell them both kids are adorable. Don’t analyze or guess or in any way try to figure out why it happened just glory in the fact that it did.
Thank you for your time.
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