One of my closest friends and most trusted confidants announced to me last week that she is expecting. Shock, amazement, joy, wariness, concern, and gratefulness are all thoughts that traveled through my mind. I am grateful for her trust in me. I am concerned for her well-being and for that of the tiny little baby trying to grow. I am overjoyed that I will hopefully be an “aunt” again soon. I am amazed at her calm steady approach to the situation.
As I continue to pass my latest miscarriage, I find it ironic that she is exactly where I was just two short months ago, waiting ‘for the other shoe to drop’ as they say…for her quant levels to stop rising…for her ultrasound to report no visible sac or heartbeat…for her doctor to say ‘just kidding, you’re really not pregnant’. And all the while still secretly hoping that this time will be different!
Like many readers out there (me included), babies have not come easily, or at all, to this family. There has been struggle and strain. There has been confusion on which fertlilty path, if any, to choose. It hasn’t been easy. It hasn’t been fair. And above all, it hasn’t been joyous. At times we feel slighted a bit in our path toward motherhood. As I mentioned in a previous post…the question isn’t “why me?”, but simply just “why?” Why is it that the most basic and fundamental part of womanhood–the ability to bear children–is so difficult for some? Creating life should be joyful. Whether we choose the path of motherhood or not, we are still anatomically made to do so. “Fertility Options” seem counterintuitive in regard to our womanly biology.
I would be a big fat liar if I professed that all my friends’ pregnancies were/are easy for me to deal with. They unequivocally are Not. My joy and excitement for them is equal to my personal sadness. There is one thought that sustains me though…I would not and could not ever ever ever wish my personal experience and grief on anyone else. I want those close to create as much joy for themselves as possible. That joy seeps into my heart and my family. It is a childish and inexperienced person that wishes for others to endure sorrow or pain so they can feel better, or simply not alone, themselves. I am so grateful that I have risen above this very human trait. I am not perfect, but I am perfectly happy for my friend.
I know that she experienced these same feelings of sadness when I found out I was pregnant, and I am forever humbled by her compassion and ability to think of my joy before her pain. And more than that, I am grateful for her sadness and grief on my behalf when I began to miscarry. That is the time when silence from friends and family is the most brutal. They don’t know what to say, or are afraid to intrude. I get that. But my friend wasn’t silent. She was honest and brilliant. She called, texted, and emailed many times to check on me. She reminded me that it’s okay to cry and to say that life isn’t fair. This to me is the mark of true friend.
Friend, I am praying for you. I am hoping for you. I am thinking of you and your baby. Whatever the outcome, this is a reminder that miracles can happen…that life is precious. Please celebrate every second that you carry this child. This pregnancy is a gift. Maybe, just maybe, you will still be pregnant when we bring our little ones home from Colombia. What a triumph that would be. I love you! We really are much ‘more than our fertility.’