"When are you going to have a baby?"

Yesterday, I received an e-mail from one of my friends. I knew her baby shower was coming up and sure enough, it was an e-vite. In the invitation, it said, “Hello mommy friends! I’m so happy to know I’m now going to be in the club! Please come and share my happiness. I love you all so much and hope to see you here!” I scrolled down to see if there was a personal message, and sure enough, there was. It said, “You might be thinking, “This b*tch is crazy! I’m not a mom! She knows I’ve been trying to have a baby for years!” But in my heart Aymen, you are a mother. You take care of your niece as if she was your own and you give her all the love you have. A mother isn’t the person who has a child, a mother is one who raises them. And you, my beautiful friend, are the best one I’ve met. I love you dearly. I know being around pregnant women and moms makes you uncomfortable, but please come. YOU know what I’ve gone through and understand. It just would be the same without you.”

My eyes suddenly got all teary. I love my friend and she would know better than anyone about infertility. She too struggled for years to have a child and she finally became pregnant. The thought about being around women, who all, I’m positive, were going to talk about stinky diapers and the best stroller to get… well, I just know I couldn’t handle it. Not right now. Not while I’m so vulnerable.

Within the last 10 months, both my sister and my sister-in-law gave birth to baby boys. There’s Xavier, who’s got the most loving eyes and beautiful laughter. He’s the most handsome little guy I’ve ever met. I’m in love with him every time I see him. Then there’s Deven, who’s only 4 months old but is already starting to show his personality. The way his hair naturally goes up into a mohawk, the way he kicks his little feet when he’s in the swing. His little grin can light up anyone’s day. I’m in love with him every time I see him too. Although my love is enormous for them, my desire for a baby of my own is just as big.

My boyfriend Ernest and I have been trying to have a child for the past 6 years. I can’t even count the pregnancy test, the hundreds of ovulation prediction kits and the thousands of tears I’ve shared. A few year ago, my beautiful sassy niece came to live with us part time. Leila has been the brightest spot in my life. She makes me so unbelievably happy when she’s around and I can feel the love she has for us is enormous. I love her so much, but she’s not ours to keep. We share her with her parents. Although she is the biggest motivation for me to get up in the morning, my goal is not to raise her forever, but to return her to my sister one day. I have detached myself just enough, so that I won’t fall into a depression once she is gone. How horrible of me, I know. It’s my survival mechanism, the way I’ll cope.

Today, one of my Aunts came to visit us. She is one out of the two Aunts who doesn’t have PCOS (there’s 7 Aunts in total) and who has been able to have children with absolutely no help. She must have asked me at least four times, “When are you going to have a baby?” At first I was really cool with it. I’m 34, I get this asked A LOT. What I don’t get is the constant asking from the same person. Towards the end, I wanted to slip away and have a meltdown in my bedroom. But how was I suppose to leave my aunt all alone in my living room?

Suddenly, relief came in form of my mother. When I walked out to greet her, I whispered, “I’m going to kill her if she asked me when I’m going to have a baby.” My mom’s always been there for me and knows (to an extent) what I’ve gone through. Everyday, we grow closer, but it’s still hard to open myself up. Only a few people know what I’ve felt (such as my cousin Jerika), because they’ve felt it too. They felt the pain of my miscarriage and the sadness I feel with each BFN. My mom though, she’s forever the optimist. She’s so proud that I went back to school. She keeps reminding me that I don’t have to give birth to a child necessarily and that there are hundreds of kids out there who need a home. They need me probably just as much as I need them, in a way.

Within minutes, my mom was occupying my aunt’s time. Everything went smoothly after that. Thank God for my mother. No more “When are you going to have a baby” flying my way. At least for today.

It’s amazing how one question can have such an enormous impact on me and in my life. It brings out the most vulnerable side of me. The side I dare not show strangers.

As I sit here, all I can think about is my friend’s baby shower and how I felt when my aunt asked me that question. As much as I love my friend, I’m going to have to decline her invitation… at least that’s my decision for right now. If I couldn’t handle a nosy, pushy aunt, how am I suppose to handle a large group of women in a baby shower? Unless I just wear a shirt that says, “Ask me when I’m going to have a baby if you want to get punched in the face,” there’s just no way around that one powerful question.