The week after I went off birth control, some good friends of ours celebrated the birth of their first child. We were excited for them and for a glimpse into our future (hopefully). But as time went on and more and more of our friends got pregnant and had their baby showers and had their babies. With every text, phone call, or facebook status saying “We’re pregnant!” my heart sank. I started hating any woman that I thought was pregnant. Crying and breaking down in the car after grocery shopping because some woman I didn’t even know and probably would never see again was walking around happily pregnant seems silly to most people, but I couldn’t control my emotions at that point. I wanted to yell at people who had kids and ignored them. I wanted to punch women who complained about basic pregnancy symptoms. I would have done anything to be uncomfortable, nauseous, and kicked all the time.
And in October, my world felt like it came crashing down. My husband got a phone call from his mom telling us that his sister (who fought infertility herself) was pregnant. And because her husband was being deployed for 7 months with the Navy, she was moving back home for the remainder of her pregnancy. (To be honest, if I lived 1300 miles away from my family and my husband wasn’t going to be around, I would probably move home too.) But that meant not only would I hear every detail, but I would see it to.
So here I am, in one of the toughest positions I’ve ever been in. I desperately wanted to be happy for someone who was able to realize her dream of being a parent, but I couldn’t let go of the harsh feelings I had toward every potentially pregnant woman because I didn’t know if I could ever live the only dream I’ve ever had.
Before I get too dark, I want to say that I am glad my sister-in-law got to have a happy and healthy pregnancy despite my issues trying to be happy for her. Although it felt like I was constantly being attacked and it felt like every tiny comment she made about her pregnancy was being shoved in my face, I know now that it was NOT the case. If you have friends who are fighting infertility, don’t push them away because you think you are upsetting them. Don’t apologize or feel bad for being happy. We don’t want that. (We might laugh a little too hard when you get kicked in the ribs, but we don’t wish you any harm.)
October 2008 – Happy Birthday to me. 3 weeks after my sister-in-law moved back to town, I turned 26. Every girl has the ‘perfect’ life plan laid out about the same time she’s convinced boys may not be covered in cooties. I had a plan for my life and that didn’t include turning 26 with no kids. It wasn’t my best day.
November 2008 – We are still waiting to hear from Dr. B about a donor bone for my ankle which means no movement on the fertility front. And my sister-in-law is going to doctor’s appointments, getting ultrasound pictures, buying baby stuff, and complaining about every bout of nausea and trip to the bathroom. (To set it straight, she didn’t complain more than any other pregnant woman, but because it was her and because I was dealing with what I was dealing with it seemed like every word was pregnancy related.)
Thanksgiving was the worst! I was being pulled in a million different directions emotionally, and I couldn’t control any of them. We had Thanksgiving ‘dinner’ with my family (it was actually at lunch time). A few of us sat in the kitchen before the food was ready making small talk. As my niece and nephew ran through, my step-brother’s wife asked when we were going to have some rug rats. I actually yelled at her. She had no idea we had been trying for a year and a half, she had no idea I had uterine surgery, she had no idea I was a ticking time bomb. I yelled that we were trying and might never be able to have kids, then went to my mom’s bedroom (the off limits room) to drench the pillows with tears. Fortunately, my aunt smoothed things out and explained my reaction. Once I composed myself, we finished our visit with my family and headed to my husband’s parents’ house for and actual dinner time Thanksgiving dinner.
I was already having a rough day and now I went into a house where every conversation (seemingly) was about the ups and downs of my sister-in-law’s pregnancy. As long as I’ve been part of my husband’s family, they have gone around the Thanksgiving dinner table and said what they were thankful for from that year. Even though I knew this was coming, and I knew what would be at the top of the list, I was really hoping we could skip that part…or at least give me enough warning so I could excuse myself to the bathroom for those few minutes. After my mother-in-law and sister-in-law got teary eyed as they stated the obvious, I couldn’t even give my answer. I’d like to do that now…
I was grateful for my family…all of them. I was grateful that a woman I know got to experience her dreams. I was grateful, most of all, for my wonderful husband who stood by me, whipped my tears, held my hand, and held me as I cried. He told me that everything would be ok. He said we could use donors if we had to or even adopt, if it came down to it. He helped me face some of the hardest days of my life.
I had warned my best friend that this was going to be a bad day and she offered to come pick me up so I could get away if I needed to. So as I fought back tears at the dinner table, I texted her and asked if her offer still stood. 20 minutes later she was waiting for me in the driveway. I didn’t want to ruin the holiday for the whole family, so I removed myself in an attempt to let them have a good evening. Her hope of distracting me with mindless girl talk was smashed by me bawling on her shoulder all the way back to my house. She was even nice enough to sit and stare at nothing with me until my husband got home.
That day haunted me for a very long time.
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