A Royal Timestamp

In case you live under a rock, William and Kate are having another baby.  Oh boy.  According to the stalwart news source that writes in first person apparently, the Daily Mail, "The couple confided only recently to friends that they had wanted to try for another baby this summer. ‘It was the plan, but they are surprised and of course delighted it has happened so quickly,’ my source added."

Yes, so magical and great.

My Perfect Breakdown had an interesting piece feeling sorry for the Duchess and her chose fishbowl with no privacy.  And yea, that sucks for her I guess, and I can't even imagine what it would be like to have that level of fame and so many people interested in her uterus, and I write a blog for strangers about my uterus.  Even at its worst moments, I can't say I would trade my life for Kate's.  I think all of us in the infertility community have a more cynical view of pregnancy and all the shit that can go wrong.  So being forced to announce so early would be pretty much my personal hell.

But mostly I'm so pissed off about having to endure another news cycle about Kate's maternity dresses/nannies/baby names/cloth diapers/food cravings/natural childbirth.  Just like last time.  Last time, she got pregnant right around when I did.  Right after I woke up in an operating recovery room with no baby and no tube, the blessed magical royal baby was announced.  Oh joy.

I said on My Perfect Breakdown that to me the Royal Baby is a timestamp on my grief.  My lost baby would have been so close to George's age, and now she has two maybe.  TWO.  In the time we've just been trying for one.  It's just a reminder of how long all this shit has taken, and how heartbreaking it is to fail at something that is apparently so easy for everyone else.  Everyone but me.