According to one definition, “envy occurs when a person lacks another’s superior quality, achievement, or possession and either desires it or wishes that the other lacked it.” Well, that about sums up what I’m feeling. Last week I was book-ended by envy. The first book end: another birth announcement in my office (right now baby boys are up — those XY sperm are kicking butt). There is a veritable population boom in my little office. Exploding bellies and proud papas-to-be are now a fixture. They’re everywhere. Nowhere for me to hide. Seriously. It’s like the universe is running me through a pregnancy gauntlet. I can hear the gods now:
“Look, PJ, until you’ve proven you can co-exist amicably and peacefully with the fertile crowd, we’re going to keep throwing new pregnancies and birth announcements at you. Consider yourself in pregnancy hell until we see some progress…”
Okay, okay! I’m working on it!! Sheesh. Can’t I get a break over the holidays? This time of year is tough for infertiles without all the new chirpy parents. And speaking of chirpy parents…
They provided the other envy bookend. I was involved in an amazing competition last weekend with all sorts of brilliant young scientists, post docs to newly minted PhDs from leading universities. These fresh-faced early 20-somethings restored my faith in the future of our planet. Not a slacker among them. The competition, not surprisingly, brought out some of their parents. It was bittersweet to watch their mommas and papas busting out with pride over their children’s accomplishments. They snapped digital photos like there was no tomorrow. The joyful expressions on their faces were hard to miss.
It was the same look on the face of the new parents in my office. And what did I feel? Yes, ENVY.
Okay, universe, I know. I know. I’m working on it!