Sadness (and Becky Cartwright)

Before I launch into a huge whinge about babyhood/infertility grounds/general retardness in the reproductive area - I must bring up my favourite topic regarding Becky Cartwright.

Basically the day Becky decided to become a regular contributor to my favourite goss magazine (to discuss motherhood, pregnant-hood and Leyton), I stopped buying it.

Then this appeared on the newstand (plus TV advertisements at 15 minute intervals thus inducing moments of non-HCG related nausea).











Major issues (for me) with regard to this magazine spread:

1. Becky, you got knocked up only weeks after meeting your beau. Prior to that you were probably more worried about getting ready for the Logies, what to wear, who to get your dresses from, your ex (some H&A guy which you only broke up with weeks ago), your lines for Home and Away, talent scouts from the US showing up at the H&A set, movie-deals, how to be a normal 20 year old under the lime-light of the jaded TV business. So the `I can't wait to be a mom' line is a little dramatic. But okay, I give you that. You must be excited. And probably Woman's Day, being the womanly mag that it is, needs to provide a politically correct title for the recently married new mom.

2. Becky looks skinny whilst pregnant. Is this normal or was the photo graphically enhanced to make a beautiful girl look even more beautiful with bump??

3. Fucking hell Becky, think of all the infertile women in Australia, and around the world. The last thing I need to see today, (after my outburst last night), is a content Becky held by Leyton in full pregnant glory. Not only are you guys totally rich, totally young, totally successful and probably Becky was given a waterfront mansion in Sydney to live in, and she probably has an interior designer for the nursery and was sponsered by Morrissey or Wayne Cooper for pregnancy-wear. But you are also, goddammit, beautifully and undeniably pregnant.

I now sulk in silence.

Now I forget what I was supposed to fucking write about today.

Oh, I had a total face-off with Apeman last night over a family hug-meet scheduled for tonight. His relatives are here again from overseas, and we have to do dinner. Last time during a similar meet, I was told by an aunty that I should look into having a baby right now (hint hint nudge nudge) because the government give you a $3000 baby bonus. Fuck the baby bonus. I am having troubles paying off the IVF bills. Pfft, $3000.

I reasoned with Apeman that I don't want to go because I feel so exposed to baby questions - it makes me want to vomit/torture small animals/cry. I am afraid I will totally snap one day and tell everybody to fuck off and leave me alone. I will scream `Leave me alone I am infertile so what can I do about it??', probably followed by 5 years of non-stop gossiping amongst the family-hood.

He told me you cannot continue to live like this, you are shutting everybody out and you cannot live like a hermit all the time. I said I will do whatever I like because it makes me happier that way and I am merely protecting myself - because no matter how strong I am, sometimes words that come out of ignorant people's mouth still hurts, and your family are so fucking fertile they keep falling pregnant so it is really difficult for me to deal with. One of them even told me blatantly that everybody is talking about me and wondering why we are not pregnant yet. He said well I really had enough of you in that case - because you are making things difficult for me. I said well fine then you can divorce me and you won't be miserable anymore and I will shit in peace. He said nothing.

Then three hours later we held hands watching TV in bed. He gave me a hug in the morning, as if he understood.

And I feel better - until I saw Becky Cartwright's pregnant form during lunch time.