I miss the girl untainted by infertility.

I'm in VA working this week and will be heading to TN for a dear friend's wedding this weekend. Hence the lack of activity around here and this tidbit I'm sharing....



A couple days ago I ran into an old friend from high school in Walmart. I hadn't seen her since graduation 6 years ago. I spoke and she turned to chat with her beautiful pregnant belly glowing. I asked her how she was and she responded with "Great!" proceeding to introduce me to her husband and put her hand on her belly. I smiled from ear to ear and congratulated her. 


Just like I would have 2 years ago, I began asking tons of questions.
When are you due? What are you having? How long have you been married?
She went on to explain that she was 7 weeks away from meeting their little girl and the due date fell 3 days past their 1 year anniversary.


So innocently her husband exclaimed, "We got married in July and found out we were pregnant in October!" You could tell he was so excited to be a daddy and it was just so darn sweet. 


I kept exclaiming how exciting and awesome it was.


They didn't ask and I didn't offer the information that we had hoped for a story like theirs.
That I expected to come home with a honeymoon baby.
That I sob like a 3 year old every month when that month's dream dies.
That we're now in the wait of try number 19.


They chatted with me so openly about their excitement without a hint of awkwardness. 
And me? 
Well for those 3 minutes (even if only outwardly) I was a thrilled friend not scarred by the defeat of infertility. 


I was the girl who had always been obsessed with pregnancy. 
I was the girl who had watched Deliver Me and birthing shows on TLC at age 11. 
I was the girl who had to resist the urge to invade her bubble and touch her belly. 


There was no (outward) tension. They didn't know I was deeply longing for the very gift that came so easily to them. I knew they weren't guarding their excitement or tiptoeing with their story because I didn't have infertility stamped on my forehead. Of course inside I was dying. I wanted to tell her how incredibly blessed she is. I wanted to melt into a puddle and cry as I left. But they had no idea.


Though I'm thankful dealing with this silently was never an option for us, I definitely had a moment.
For a moment... I missed that girl. I missed that easiness. 


I miss hearing a pregnancy announcement and jumping up & down with out a single drop of jealousy.
I miss watching bellies grow and being elated at the thought of one day having one... naive enough to believe it would be simple. 
I miss asking a million questions about pregnancy with out wrestling with grief rising up in me.
I miss stalking pregnant girls on Facebook just because I loved bumpdates and maternity shoots instead of having to limit the amount I get on.
I miss smiling and greeting babies and toddlers in the grocery store without any "what ifs" going through my mind.


Don't get me wrong... I still rejoice in pregnancy announcements and sweet newborn photos. I still greet sweet littles while shopping. I just also grieve the baby that never was. I still want to know all about pregnancies and births just with the understanding that it's hard sometimes. 


I know one day she'll return.... or at least I hope she will. 
I hope one day I'm pushing my own buggy with my own little one(s) that people greet. 
I hope one day every pregnancy sends me over the moon with joy again instead of into a wrestle with jealousy and defeat.


But for now I miss her. 
I miss the girl untainted by infertility.
I miss the girl unscarred by the empty womb inside.
I miss the naive girl who thought pregnancy would be simple.


Chances are if you are around me much... you miss her too. And for that I am sorry. 

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Can any of you other girls struggling relate to this feeling? 

CONVERSATION

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