I didn’t see this coming…because I really didn’t want to

Back in October I wrote this post. It was a good moment for me. I meant every word, which I think is important to remember when I write what I’m about to write.

Today I was working on a sewing project and got a call from M who I talk about in the linked post. His wife went in for her 36 week appointment and her blood pressure was up and her ankles were pretty swollen. Big red flags for preeclampsia. The doctor admitted her for a 24 hour urine hold. They’re not at all worried-she’s very far along, the baby looks good and has a strong and steady heart rate, but if the urine hold comes up with bad results they’re going to go ahead and induce her tomorrow.

M didn’t need my reassurances, but I gave them anyway-she’s had a picture perfect pregnancy. She’s 36w1d today, so baby is basically full term. There’s no reason to think that everything won’t be fine. He said he felt the same way, especially since her blood pressure had significantly dropped by the time they got to the hospital. It’s very possible she was just out of breath from rushing into the doctors office (they live 30 minutes away so it’s a bit of a jaunt for them).

I told him, genuinely, that if they need ANYTHING to call me. Either Chief or I will run anything they need up to them no problem. We live a bit closer to the hospital and plus, M doesn’t want to keep leaving L to go and get last minute stuff I’m sure.

When I got off the phone Chief came into the sewing room with Charlie and asked what was up. I told him. And I looked at my big, beautiful, healthy, ten month old daughter and felt….sad. I love my daughter so much. I would never ever trade her for anything. But that doesn’t allay the sorrow that I feel over the fact that she may have been the only newborn I’ll ever hold that is my own. I should be happy with just her and if she is all we ever have-she is more than enough. But I am an inherently selfish person. So while I’m happy for M and L, excited for them, joyous to meet Charlie’s soon to be best friend, planning all the freezer meals I’m going to prepare for them, I’m also extremely, heartbreakingly jealous. And ashamed for it.

I’m bracing myself for the joy and pain I’ll feel at holding my best friend for the past 15 years’ son. The son that was conceived within two months (earlier I told the parenting after infertility group I’m in it was one month because I forgot, but seriously, it’s a potato po-tah-to sort of thing as far as I’m concerned) when they weren’t even really trying. To a woman who is five years older than me. I don’t WANT them to have suffered. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, but it doesn’t change the fact that it still stings and I WISH it didn’t.

I am still excited. I’m waiting anxiously for the call that he’s on his way so that I can start making them fruit salad and lactation cookies and freezer enchiladas. I want to know his birth weight and birth date so I can do some machine embroidery on a lovey for him. I want to hold him. M is like my brother. I want kiss his son’s cute little cheeks and see if he looks more like M or L. But I’ve forgotten what it feels like to hold a newborn baby. I realized that today. Charlie is more than twice what she weighed when she was born, and she’s not particularly cuddly these days because now she has this whole world to explore, and I know the tiny weight of a fresh newborn that I will love like my own is going to break me into pieces.

I’m no longer mad at infertility for making me wait three years for a baby, because if I hadn’t waited I wouldn’t have had Charlie. I’m not mad at infertility anymore for the money and the time it took from us. It was all worth it for Charlie to be our daughter. What I’m mad at infertility for is taking away even a small part of my joy at holding my best friend’s son.

 

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “I didn’t see this coming…because I really didn’t want to

  1. I’m not entirely sure what to say on this post, because I myself have a lot of mixed and confused emotions running around inside me lately. I will say that I absolutely understand how this infertility crap can mess with our heads and our hearts. Even when we finally get pregnant and have our baby…what then? It doesn’t all just go away…I’m not really going anywhere with this, but I just wanted to say I understand. Maybe in a different way than exactly how you’re feeling…but I understand.

  2. Oh girl, you really caught one of the sharpest edges of it all here. I’m so sorry that even a fraction of your joy has been tampered with, and I hope that sliver gets eclipsed by that beautiful baby.

  3. Liking in support. I can totally get why you feel this way. I have had some serious difficulties with this sort of thing lately. I feel like I am getting bitter about the whole thing. I picked up my baby nephew the other day off the floor where his Mum had left him, he was lying in a pile of his own sick (don’t get me started I think there is a mental issue going on there). I cleaned him up and he snuggled right into me like a baby koala and unbidden came the thought, “why didn’t I get you?”.
    I think I will always get a jealous twinge at people who haven’t had to work at all to fall pregnant. In saying that I also think that should IVF be successful in times of frustration with my child I will always think about how hard I worked to have them and how much I wanted them.

  4. Can so, so relate to this. I’ve had some on and off moments of terrible jealousy at times – I think what gets me is how I can be fine one minute, able to take the situation for what it is, and then pea-green with envy the next. It’s so frustrating to have any of that joy taken away and/or have that jealousy rear its head (I’ve said more than once, ‘I just want to be over this part already’). Thanks for being willing to put this out there and sending wishes for peace as you get ready to hold the little guy.

  5. This is so relatable for a lot of us, I would bet. I’m guessing, as soon as you get to hold that little one for the first time, many of those feelings may go away, but even if they don’t, it’s okay to have those feelings, even though they don’t feel good. You had a really rough road to get Charlie and it’s not unusual for fertile pregnancies to still sting. Sending you lots of love!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s