Infertile Holidays at Work

Infertile Holidays at Work: The Interview

“This company is really like a family.”


Why do people think when you’re interviewing for a job, that that’s a selling point? So you’re telling me that you get on each other’s nerves, push each other’s buttons, talk behind each other’s backs, and hold eternal grudges?

Mercifully, most of our extended real family, the ones with whom we spend holidays, are people we don’t see that often. So whatever idiocies are said at the big family gathering…:

I really think you should start having children. You’re not getting any younger.

Or our response:

“I really think you should stop talking. You’re not getting any smarter.

…are said and then we all get into our respective cars, gripe the entire long ride home to ourselves, anyone unfortunate enough to be trapped in there with us, or a BFF on the other end of the hands-free. Then, for the next 12 months, we rehash and badmouth in our minds and to our spouses from the comfort of our own homes, culminating in the next holiday gathering when, upon pulling into the host’s driveway, we’re still hoping that person won’t be there and they are and we apologize simultaneously, hug it out, one of us says: “life’s too short”, the other agrees, and we both swear we never even gave it a second thought. It’s not always as easy after the company holiday event.


Infertile Holidays at Work: The Company Party: (Gd help us all… everyone.)

If someone you’ve confided in about your infertility starts gabbing at the big celebration, maybe after confusing the open bar with the buffet two or twelve times, or maybe you yourself imbibed more than you should have and, mistaking catty coworkers for friends, sailed your own secrets down the River Rum… you won’t have to deal with the backlash until…..Not next Thanksgiving. Not next Christmas….. Monday.


And since a juicy bit of gossip is often the best holiday bonus people can bring home nowadays- Any seeds of “news” employees start spreading at the holiday party 2016 (assuming they even remember the holiday party 2016) will grow and flourish until New Year’s Day… 2018. When finally you’ll be able to get up off the hot seat because at least one of the following will have taken place:

  1. You’ll be pregnant (yeah!) and they’ll switch from discussing how infertile you were to how fat you are.
  2. People will finally have grown as tired of your infertility as you have.
  3. A fair number of employees at the December 2016 holiday party won’t even be at the December 2017 holiday party because those holiday parties are only for company employees: Something which, for one reason or other, many will no longer be a year later. Of course, the most likely thing to occur:
  4. Something new and way more salacious than your humdrum infertility was unveiled at the most recent company holiday party and will take its place as the new reigning scandal. Almost anything will do for the overworked, underpaid, and entertainment-deprived:

A good old-fashioned loud, public cursing out; The manager feeding appetizers to the assistant manager from her cleavage; The CFO going to get her coat to leave and throwing up in the cloak room window… The possibilities are endless.

(I really appreciate you taking time at this busy time of year to stop by. I hope you feel even just a little bit better than you did when you got here. If you’d like more laughter at infertility’s expense, please think about: Subscribing to my occasional newsletter / Checking out my eBook above: Laughing IS Conceivable: One Woman’s Extremely Funny Peek into the Extremely Unfunny World of Infertility.



6 thoughts on “Infertile Holidays at Work

  1. A fellow infertile once shared with me that how she handles the “when are you going to have kids? Because, you know, you’re not getting any younger,” with “how’s the funeral planning coming? Because, you know, you’re not getting any younger.”

    Can we do that at the company holiday party too?

    I loathe gossips. Add in alcohol and the obligation from work to attend, and it just makes me want to curl up into a small ball in the corner.

  2. Ugh, work. I call it day-prison. Penned in for hours with people you would never sanely choose to spend even ten minutes with (or is that Christmas day?). It’s funny, I was never asked “Are you going to have children?” except by close friends; I feel lucky in that respect. But on the first day of my current job, I was asked by my colleagues “Do you have children?” – they turned to me expectantly at the end of a lengthy, merry chat about their many offspring, clearly waiting for me to regale them with descriptions of my two or three “little ones”. I said “No, I don’t” and silence fell; tumbleweed rolled etc – and then I said, “Sorry – obviously a conversation stopper!”. To this they said “No, no, no, it’s alright”, without making eye contact. Then the subject was swiftly changed. Yes, I apologised. WTF.
    But that’s really the only time in recent years that I’ve been asked directly, to my face, so I suppose it’s not too bad.

  3. I love Cristy’s response too. I guess one of the advantages of unemployment (there are many actually) is that there is no Christmas – sorry, Holiday (it’s not really the way we use the word holiday here in NZ) party. Or there’s a party for one, which is what I’m going to have tonight on my own (chardonnay, pasta, and chocolate icecream, not necessarily in that order), while my husband is at his Christmas party.

    Though of course the key advice here is to think twice before you speak, and that’s always a good reminder.

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