In Vain

It is ugly but true that in my lowest moments of infertility I’ve said to myself, well at least my body still looks good.

(Whatever that means.)

Vanity allows me to take comfort there, but its solace is in vain, as ideally the thing I want to happen will negate the very thing I comfort myself with now.

It is an impossible paradigm I’ve set up for myself, but hasn’t it always felt impossible to be a woman?