I finally organized my closet yesterday, after living here a cool four months. Daniel looked at it and said, “Babe! We could totally have a kid now!” This was a joke and a callback to our one-time broker Incontinence, who showed us an apartment in which a baby lived in a closet. Such is life in the postage stamp of NYC realty.
A few hours later, we were leaving a rare trip to the East Harlem Target where we’d stocked up on some staples, like a million Clorox wipes and ten gallons of laundry detergent. We were standing on the corner waiting for our YOU-ber when a woman behind us yelled, “Hey! I thought you were holding a baby!”
I turned around and showed her that what she thought was a baby was actually “Happy Llamakuh” wrapping paper.
“That your girlfriend?” she asked Daniel.
“My wife, actually!”
She paused. Squinted at my wrapping paper. “Y’all got kids?”
I started to tell her that the whimsical wrapping paper was just for us when Daniel said, “Not yet. In our future, maybe!”
And then this mysterious woman said, “Oh, she’s pregnant. Ma’am, you’re pregnant. Right now. I saw you holding an infant. You. Are. Pregnant.”
I wanted to pull the brand new $42 Diva Cup I’d just purchased out of my bag and let her know that I was actually expecting definitive confirmation that I am very much not pregnant to arrive any moment. Before I could do that, Daniel laughed, asked her name (Annette) and told her we’d name “the baby” after her if she was right.
She cackled and waltzed off, declaring again that I was expecting. It felt very much like Annette may have been a witch, and I may have been cursed.
Our YOU-ber home took twice as long as anticipated because a manhole literally blew up in front of us and traffic got a bit tangled what with all the rubberneckers and firefighters and flames dancing across the asphalt. New York City, am I right?!
But by the time we finally made it home, my Diva Cup was ready to be put to good use. With much tenderness and love to those experiencing infertility and/or struggling to become pregnant, as a person who very much does not want to have a child right now, I am happy to report that my womb remains blessedly unoccupied. (Except for my IUD, which is in fact, implanted in my womb and is the #1 reason I remain blissfully childfree.)
Take that, Annette!