"Have you given anymore thought to trying again?"
"Have you considered going back to treatments?"
Twice in the last two days? Really?
No. Okay. No. I haven't given it ANY thought. Ever. It's not like it haunts me or anything. It's not like the new-nephew-baby-mania doesn't bring up those feelings of inadequacy, but yeah... this is the perfect time to ask me that.
Their hearts are in the right place. I know. I KNOW.
But I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to be pestered, I don't want the pity, the intrusion. So I dodged. And dodged. I've managed to steer the conversation tactfully, while not really answering. I mention how treatments cost money, and there's a lot of stuff involved... blah blah blah, implications of stuff, then I steer that conversation right out of that whole area.
Still. This is the second time my mother had asked in the last couple months.
She might be on to me.