I always used to think that one day I would be one of those women who got pregnant without even trying. From the time I started having sex, I was convinced that I would eventually become a statistic. The unwed mother with an unplanned pregnancy.
We’ve already discussed the fact that my hunches may need some recalibration.
It was because of this feeling of mine though, that I remained beyond diligent when it came to my pill taking. Because of this fear that pregnancy would happen before I was ready, that I took every precaution I could.
Despite these precautions though, I still had plenty of scares. If I was involved in a sexual relationship (and even some months when I wasn’t), I was holding my breath until those first signs of the crimson tide. I was simply that convinced that I was a fertile myrtle; that even modern day contraception couldn’t stand in the way of my body making a baby.
And that was one of my biggest fears. At 16, 19, 22, and even 25; the worst thing I could imagine happening to me was an unplanned pregnancy.
Little did I know.
But you see; I had plans and goals. I had a timeline and a checklist. As much as I wanted to be a mother (and even then, that was always the ultimate goal); I wanted to do it on my terms. When I decided the time was right.
Funny how life works out.
I think I've come to terms with the fact that conception will never be easy for me (if even possible), but I seem to have lost sight of the reality that this isn’t the case for all women. Not everyone struggles and fails. Not everyone lives in fear of it never happening. Not everyone has to try so hard.
Some women get pregnant without even trying at all.
I found out last week that the ex’s sister was pregnant. The same sister who’s wedding I attended just last month, and who I knew decidedly wasn’t trying.
As soon as I found out, tears were streaming down my face. I couldn’t stop them, I couldn’t force them back; they just flowed.
As quickly as the tears began though, they suddenly shifted to tears of anger. Anger at myself. Anger over the emotions I simply couldn’t control.
Anger that I was the girl who cried over the happy news of someone she loved.
I caught myself wondering if I would always be like this. If I would always be the girl who ached so deeply that she simply couldn’t rejoice in the news of a pregnancy anymore; no matter how wanted or loved that child would be.
For the rest of my life, will this news always hurt?
It isn't that I would ever wish this struggle on anyone either, but somehow (someway), I have become so consumed by it that I've forgotten it isn't so hard for everyone else. I've become so entrenched in this infertile world of mine, that I've lost sight of what things are like in the real world.
In the real world, women just get pregnant. In the real world, they don't even have to be trying.
In the real world, becoming a mother doesn't feel so impossible.
And in the real world, those I love are passing me by.
I spoke to her the next morning, and was able to tell her how happy I truly am for her. I owned my tears, but I tried to explain as best as I could. I wasn’t crying because she got two lines; I was crying because I didn't. I wasn’t hurting because she would get to experience the magic of pregnancy; I was hurting because I wanted to be right there with her. Had my cycle worked, we would have been within a week of each other’s due dates. Having no friends in my immediate circle who are anywhere near having babies (they have all either been there/done that, or they are still young and single with no plans of changing anything anytime soon), the prospect of being pregnant with a close friend was palpable. In my head, our baby showers were playing out alongside every single moment when we would have been growing together.
But, that won’t be happening. Instead, it will be only her; at least for now. And while I love her with all my heart, the loss of what could have been (by all rights; what should have been) had my heart aching.
After I explained the tears though, I also explained my very real joy. Joy over a baby who will be loved and wanted. Joy over a little one who I will be able to snuggle up to and shower with attention. Joy for a friend of mine who will be a wonderful mother.
And she understood. She was cautious of my feelings, and considerate of the rawness; she understood. She knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that I really am happy for her (and if she doesn’t, she should. This is a beautiful woman with an incredible heart and a fabulous husband – these two will make phenomenal parents.) But I think she also gets why there would be an ache in my heart. And I think she knows that despite that ache, I still want to be there for every single step of the way. I still want to be the friend that is supporting her as best I can; the one who is loving that baby before he or she ever even arrives.
Because that’s what friends do, and this girl is a friend who I adore. Regardless of what the end result was between the ex and me, I will forever be grateful for our relationship if only because it brought this incredible family into my life.
And even though I’m having to come to terms with the fact that other women get pregnant without even trying, I’m also trying to remind myself that my turn hasn’t passed me yet. That there is still hope, and love, and joy in this future of mine.
That somewhere around the corner there may be a baby meant just for me. One who is simply waiting for the right time. One who I will undoubtedly have to work for; try for, pray for, and sacrifice for. But a baby nonetheless.
A baby who will land in my arms and suddenly;
It won’t matter how hard I had to try.
ADSPACE
