One reason I like going to the gym is that I zone out. Things I’ve been focusing on go away, stress takes a hike, etc. And it allows more interesting thoughts some fertile ground to germinate in.

In light, presumably, of Violet and Coffee’s amazing news, and my brother’s charming yet unblinking midget, I had a moment on the elliptical this evening where it occurred to me, at a very visceral level, that I don’t know a single person biologically connected to me. The fact that some exist, somewhere, was irrelevant.

I mean, I know this, always have done, and it’s not something that bothers me, but that moment was the strangest feeling. I felt kind of… disconnected. From everyone. Even Violet in her orphaned state is related to extended family, even if she rarely sees them. Even Sherry, who jokes about being adopted, such is her difference from her mother and the fact that she and her siblings look even less alike than my brother and I do. Even my brother knows both sides of his biological family (even if they are losers), and now has a 50% share of a splendid tiny human.

And then my next thought was that it would suck if I ever needed a bone marrow donor. What can I say, I like being organized. 🙂

It makes me wonder what the effect is on people like me if they ever have their own families. Mine. Mineminemine.

Perhaps that was my tiny glimpse into what drives infertile people to go through many levels of hell in the pursuit of their “own” child. Because before now I’ve mostly thought they were insane masochists.

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