the "baby" elephant in the room

I would like to think that I've handled everything the ride of infertility has thrown at me in an okay manner.  Sure, I've had my moments when I've broke down, had a temper tantrum, or been sad because of everything.  But, all things considered, I think I've done quite well.  I mean, a few weeks ago on facebook there were seven pregnancy announcements!  SEVEN!  Seeing stuff like that used to make me cringe, but now, I hardly even bat an eye.  Having said that, I think it's probably because these people are acquaintances, friends of friends, etc. not anyone particularly close to me. 

Well, my ability to "deal" apparently goes out the window when it's someone close to me.  Last night, some friends of ours announced their 8 weeks along.  Now I know I've said this before, I it still rings true here--I'm happy for them, I am.  But I'm even more sad for us.  These friends are good people, I love them dearly, really, I do.  BUT....they just got married in September, hell, we've been TRYING longer than they've known each other.  She told me before the Super Bowl started and we were at their house.  Yeah, that was a great time, sitting there trying to keep that ugly green-headed envious monster from rearing it's little head throughout an entire boring football game.  Every so often I had to excuse myself to the restroom, mainly to empty my bladder since I was chugging beer like I was in college again, and also to let out the sobs I was suppressing. 

We got in the car to leave, and DH knew that something was up.  I'm pretty sure I looked a combination of someone about to puke & cry.   I couldn't control myself.  I completely lost it.  Sobbing uncontrollably.  I don't like that these meltdowns are happening more frequently.  DH's first response was, 'well that's good for them, right?' to which I wanted to respond to by punching him in the face (I didn't...).  We got home and got ready for bed, still sobbing of course.  He laid with me in bed and decided to play the role of cheerleader first, 'you're strong, it's going to be okay, we just gotta have faith' which then moved into the role of coach, 'you're not a quitter!, you need to snap out of this,'.  I didn't take that very well, needless to say.  It then turned into him word-vomiting how he feels like he has to 'walk on eggshells around me' and 'can't even feel excited for his sister who's due soon, because he's afraid it'll upset me'.  It ended with him storming out of the room and not coming to bed until 3 hours later.  Awesome.  That's just what I needed, this to turn into a huge f*cking fight between the two of us.  I don't understand why he couldn't just lay there with me in silence???  Why did he feel the need to keep talking, digging himself a hole until I eventually blew up at him?!  I can't understand why he doesn't get why I'm sad...I'm simple mourning the loss of our fertility, our ability to do this the normal, old-fashioned way.  Is he not sad about it?! 

What a shitty way to start the week.  I slept like crap last night and feel like shit today.  Neither of us are very good at letting things go, so I know it's going to an awkward, long night when he gets home from work.  F.