The chicken is involved, and also committed
Once you've been touched by infertility, how can you not stay aware? Even with two kids, even past my own years of crisis, I still see it everywhere. Today's example comes from Margaret Wise Brown's children's classic, Big Red Barn, where even that poor sad bastard of a chicken...
...has a co-worker who just doesn't get it:
Go on. Count 'em. Ten! Now eat it, Nadya Suleman.
This is National Infertility Awareness Week. To, ah, celebrate, I called my congressman's office today and asked, aaaaagain, for him to support legislation to provide insurance coverage for infertility treatment. I bought Pamela Jeanne's book because her story — the story of staying involuntarily childless — needs to be heard, and I bought Tertia's book, which ends the way I wish every infertility story did, because I needed to prop up a wobbly table wanted to support a friend who helped me through a really tough time. And I thought, am thinking nonstop, about how lucky I am that 2,000 stories at bedtime leave me able to quote from memory about chickens, fertile and in-.
RESOLVE suggests seven ways to raise awareness of infertility. What are you doing for NIAW? Haranguing your legislators? Listening without judgment to a friend? Learning something new? Challenging an assumption? Shooting your fertility meds in a public bathroom without hiding in a stall, where just anyone could walk in and see? (Rock on with your bad self.)
Are you doing anything to make an impact? Extra points if you're eating an egg salad sandwich. What can I say? That little bantam hen pissed me off.