She’s been avoiding my questions for 3 weeks now, but I knew. We share the same cycle. I knew when she was trying because it was the same time I was. I knew when she was testing. And yet, she kept being evasive “oh any time now” “my cycle is a little off”.
We went to a team lunch and she passed on the wine. We ordered sushi and she wouldn’t tell me which rolls she was ordering.
My boss is pregnant. She’s the same age as me, but she’s got fresh sperm. I love my wife and I love my life, but this past year has really made me wish I were straight. Or a lesbian with benefits. Or something.
She’s pregnant. I’m not.
There are SEVEN pregnant women in my office right now. I see swollen bellies and radiant faces every freaking day, but now I get to be around hers. All the time.
It was so hard to be happy and congratulatory to her. I’m sure she saw the cloud register on my face when she told me. And she didn’t tell me! I cornered her and asked her point blank and then she told me.
I thought it was pretty shitty that I’ve been so honest and truthful and upfront with her on everything—and I told her so. She asks questions—I answer. But she wasn’t as forthcoming with me.
I get it, she wasn’t sure, she wanted to be sure…she was going to tell me, she feels really bad. I know, I know.
This hurts. I knew it would be really hard if she got pregnant first. She hasn’t had to go through ANYthing. No drugs. No ultrasounds. No 10K spent on sperm. She just has sex in a fucking rent control apartment while I spend all my money on sperm that I can’t even enjoy in my overpriced market rent apartment.
I kind of hate her right now. She drinks coffee. All the time. She gave up nothing.
It’s snowing outside and I think I’m going to leave now, walk home and cry.
Please let me be pregnant.