Tree stump

I have observed that women of child bearing age can be grouped into three separate categories.

Group A- these are the uber-fertiles. You know the type- "my husband looked at me and I fell pregnant". What is with that expression- "fell pregnant" - anyway? As if pregnancy was something you trip over, like a tree stump, whilst leaving the house to go to work or the gym. When you stand up, after your little tumble- looky here! You're pregnant!

Group B- the normal fertiles. These are women who conceive after trying for awhile. Sometimes they need a little extra behavioural modification (drink green tea, have sex even though you are not in the mood). Sometimes a slight medicinal tweakage helps too, like treatment of hypothyroidism- but they generally "achieve pregnancy" (another term I loathe) without invasive rummaging up the fanoir.

Group C- the infertiles. Women who try everything- sex every day for the month, Instead cups, hanging from chandeliers, Clomid, IUI, IVF. Repeat.

The funny thing is, it seems you are not actually restricted to one category for the whole of your life- you can theoretically transfer at anytime. But it's less likely for an infertile to suddenly become an uber-fertile. Far more likely that one day the uber-fertile forgets where she left the tree stump and consquently wanders around staring at the ground with a slightly befuddled look on her face, muttering under her breath. I can see how that would be distressing, too- infertility, at whatever stage in your reproductive life- is a pain in the ass.

I am not sure in which category I belong, because I still don't know what the problem is. My head says Group B, my heart says Group C. Maybe in fact it's somewhere in the middle. Maybe I just don't want to believe that I've been sent straight to Group C without even an audition for Group A. And maybe I don't want to be categorised at all. I'm a person, goddamn it, not a group member.

Oh, and if you see a tree stump near by, will you let me know?