I knew I should have stayed home last night. All day, my stomach was a little “off.” I assumed my gastrointestinal distress was the inevitable result of falling off the gluten-free wagon (I just had to have that cinnamon roll – it was calling my name!), and it probably was, but I can’t help but wonder if it was also a little bit foreshadowing of the emotional distress to come.
My sister invited M and I to her house on Saturday for an evening of food, drink, and good company by the campfire. One of our cousins and her kids would be there, along with my sister’s friend and her kids. You see where this is going. My first thought was that this felt an awful lot like a parents/kids gathering and I would probably feel out of place. Part of me worried that my cousin might be pregnant again. I told myself I was being silly, and reminded myself that my instincts are always wrong. So, we went.
Thirty minutes after we arrived, I learned that my instincts were right. My cousin casually mentioned that yet another sister is pregnant. Yep. Just two weeks after her first baby’s first birthday, she’s knocked up again. (For those keeping score at home, this makes four cousins (3 sisters) all pregnant at the same time.) Luckily, I was sitting in one of those swivel arm chairs and there were several conversations all happening at once, so as soon as I heard the words, I was able to turn away and pretend I hadn’t heard. Oh, I know I was fooling no one, but at least I could pretend.
My heart fell. It’s so very unfair. It’s my turn. I’m the one who has struggled to get pregnant for more than two years, who has endured a miscarriage and all sorts of painful and invasive procedures. I’m the one who deserves to be pregnant. They think it’s cute and incredible that 3 sisters are all pregnant at the same time. For me, it’s a painful reminder that they can (and do) have as many babies as they want, whenever they want. I wouldn’t be surprised if the other two of the five sisters also turned up pregnant. They could do it, easily. And for no better reason than the novelty of all being pregnant together.
I managed to keep my cool and not cry. In fact, I haven’t cried about it at all (yet). Maybe my skin is just getting thicker. I’ve come to expect that I will be left far, far behind in the baby department. I’m not okay with that, but I think I’m getting closer to accepting it.