the truth

Our friends Frank and Laura are having a baby! This is very exciting news. Frank and Laura are terrific people, they'll make an adorable, smart baby and raise it up to be a great, bike-riding, philanthropic, theater-going member of society. There should be more people like Frank and Laura and now there will be!

Of course I was a bit jealous when I heard the news. They have tons of free sperm, and they just had fun free sex and whoop, baby! It made me wish life was just as easy for us. Just like I'm jealous when my friends with corporate jobs get giant bonuses for christmas and I get the flu. I'm just as smart and great of a person. Why should my life not be equally awesome and easy?

But I know that's silly and non-productive. I love my life. I love Jen. I wouldn't trade ANYTHING about our life together for money, or sperm, or even a baby. I love going through this process with her and learning about myself and about what she thinks and about ovulation and about sperm banks and saving money and fertile mucous and cracking her up while I stick a pipette into her vaginal canal. I'm really happy with how we live and how we live together. And having a baby isn't an end to race anyone to, or some final peice of a puzzle that has to be in place before my life can be considered complete. Trying to have a baby is an element in the larger development of my life. Actually having the baby and raising a kid will be another element. The fact that I get to share these things with a woman I am completely capitvated by, obsessed with, crazy in love over, means that no matter what happens, I am growing in a positive way, I am happy, I am satisfied, I am with her.

Doth I protest too much? Am I trying to stamp out the tiny green monster tugging on my pant leg? Am I trying to stab a stick through the yawning maw of expectations? Maybe. PART-ly. But its also the truth. I'm really happy for Frank and Laura, and I'm really happy for me and Jen.

This month we try again. Jen's probably going ovulate over thanksgiving weekend, which will be good in terms of our free time, but awkward since her great but extremely uh...inquisitive mom will be visiting. We'll be sleeping in the office on the futon, fending off the dogs, quietly attempting to achieve orgasm while her mom pads to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I swear, sometimes its It's like we're trying to concieve in a french farce or something.