Grey hair

Not that long ago, whenever colleagues at work were discussing problems with raising kids they usually commented something like "You will see when you have kids."  I never commented anything, I just smiled (I guess it was either a sad or a bitter smile or both).

This week, two coworkers were discussing how was their night. Both children were vomiting so they slept very badly. One coworker looked at me and said: "We should stop talking about these details, Klara never needs to hear about it, it is boring."

Her comment was so matter of fact. We never discussed anything really personal. But she just said it - between the lines - matter of fact - that I will never have children. Since I am too old to have children. This is absolutely true. But it still hurts to realize that somewhere between waiting for a child that never came I got old.

All coworkers of course know I am over 40. And they see my partially grey hair (somehow I can't decide to start colouring it, perhaps I don't want to look younger than I really am).

There was no malice in my coworkers comment. It stung a bit. But it didn't really hurt. It is what it is.

A day later,  I went with this colleague (32, mother of a 2-year old child) to a business event for two days. We had a lovely time together actually.

Since I was driving this time, I drove her home with company car. She invited me to go to her home to meet her husband and a baby. My first instinct was that I should decline invitation. But somehow that seemed impolite, so I went. I played with her beautiful daughter for ten minutes, it was nice. In the darkest days of infertility I couldn't play with someone else's kid. But now, that I am almost cured, I really know and feel that because what my colleague got (=a picture perfect little kid) I didn't loose anything. There is no such thing as limited number of babies.  But there are something as broken tubes because of swimming in polluted swimming pool in Australia and ovaries that got too old to produce anything.