Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Anyone who has struggled with infertility knows what it is like to find out someone you know is pregnant.
It doesn’t even have to be a close friend. Hell, a few days ago I found out that Halle Berry got knocked up “naturally” at 47. Outsiders may take this piece of information and say that it’s good news, it should give me hope. That even though I feel like at (almost) 36 my eggs are all dried up, if Halle is any indication, I have at least 11 more years ahead of me!
Not so dear reader. The thought process is more like this: “Are you fucking kidding me? A 47 year old woman, careless teenagers, and even a man can all get pregnant and STILL, I can’t!”
Of course, it hurts a little more with close friends because typically you are along for the ride during the whole pregnancy…first heartbeats, gender reveals, baby showers, etc.
Luckily, due to our age, we are at a point when most of our friends are done having kids, so my guard is generally down.
Today at work, I discovered that one of my co-workers is pregnant. She is a pretty private girl, so I am not shocked she didn’t let the cat out of the bag right away, but I was very surprised to learn she is actually 6 months along already. She has been wearing looser clothing, concealing her pregnancy, but today was wearing a form-fitting shirt. I walked into the lunch room and BAM! There was no mistaking that baby belly.
I went back to my desk and felt as though I had been kicked in the gut.
She had just gotten married yesterday. Not figuratively, like she hasn’t been married long. No, she literally got married yesterday.
This October will be 10 years that I have been married, and a majority of that time has been spent trying to conceive.
One of my other coworkers, a friend, asked me if I was ok once she realized that I knew.
I don’t want to be that girl. I don’t want to be the girl that people feel sorry for. I don’t want to be the girl who feels happy for her friends as a secondary emotion. But I am that girl.
If you’re reading this and you have never dealt with infertility, I probably sound like a self-centered asshole to you. I get that. I understand why you would think that.
I don’t know how to change that. It is not a thought or deliberate reaction. It is a gut feeling. Uncensored. It is my heart breaking just a little bit more.
We will soon be embarking on our next IVF attempt. I should have hope. I want to have hope. But when your heart has been broken as much as mine has, what is left is being used to keep the rest of it together and therefore doesn’t have a whole lot of capacity for hope.
I want to be the girl who is happy every time I hear of someone else’s pregnancy because I have experienced the joy of bringing a child into this world. I desperately want to be that girl.
For that girl, there is hope.