As Paxton’s estimated due date creeps further out of the shadows, i’m anxiously aware of the endless number of pregnant women suddenly popping up in my life. It’s taking enormous inner strength to calm my mind as I wade through the muggy swamp of baby loss and my friends swim through the river rapids of pregnancy.
I love my friends… they’re like family to me. But i’m finding it increasingly difficult to be authentic when being around them, especially as their hands lay protectively across their extended bellies or talk of their second or third child fills the air. I guess i’m still in the gut wrenching phase of sensing what has be unwillingly taken from me, trying my best to keep up with the world that forever keeps spinning, while still struggling to offer a real heartfelt ‘congratulations’ as another friend tells me they’re safely over the 12 week mark.
I’ve found that i’m walking a thin line of wanting to be the supportive friend versus feeling my stomach drop and wanting to burst the water mains as another friend tells me she’s pregnant. It’s not that I don’t want to dance amongst their joy. I would genuinely love nothing more than this. But I think it’s more of a case of knowing i’ll never have my dream of having 2 kids grow up close in age, or maybe it’s losing something I was completely unprepared for losing … which makes each expectant pregnancy that a friend holds, harder to bask in.
One of my beautiful pregnant friends actually openly asked me today if I was ok talking about pregnant stuff. This question took me by surprise, like a swipe to your chest you never saw coming, but I realised I was so incredibly thankful to have a genuine conversation about what was obviously still a big lump in my throat. I don’t want my friends not to talk about their pregnancies because they’re scared how i would feel or react. I don’t want them to have to tippy toe around me, but boy was I grateful to have such a caring friend who was willing to have an open conversation about her situation and mine.
My husband logically pointed out to me that actually, not everyone is pregnant… Which is true. It’s like I have a tennis rally going on in my head; batting back and forth between the logic of, ‘of course not everyone is pregnant’, to ‘why the fuck is everyone i’m associated with finally becoming fertile when i’m not’. I’m hoping the logic outweighs the emotion in the long run.