Monday 25 November 2013

Getting it Off My Chest

This is a long one. You’ve been warned.
Okay, truth be told, it’s only one person in my life who is being a huge asshole to me. The worst part is that she doesn’t even know, because I don’t want to tell her. So far, the only hurtful things she’s said to my face were before she told me she was pregnant. Everything else has been by text or Facebook. So, no reason to lash out when the tone could have been misconstrued.
But I’d like to address my feelings on each statement, because if I don’t they’ll just stay bottled up and it’ll be like a volcano if she triggers me to my face. And, saying it out loud to someone feels like gossip. I don’t know; there’s something about typing it that, although real to me, seems more like a story on the page, and less like real life. Less like I’m being a terrible person and more like I’m a really great tragic-story teller. Also, I don’t necessarily want sympathy at this stage of the game. Just to get it out.
Oh, and I can’t tell her, because her feelings will get hurt. It’s been apparent in the past that she does not understand how to be sympathetic. The whole “put yourself in the other person’s shoes”? Yeah; she’s incapable of doing that.
I, however, feel like I can do that. I know that if I were to say a lot of these things to her that it would hurt her feelings, it would come across as though I wish she wasn’t pregnant. It would come across as though I wish she would miscarry, that she would have to grieve as I have been. It would come across as though I should be the one who gets to have a happy, healthy baby first, and that she needs to wait. None of these statements are true. Deep down, I’m so happy that she’s going to have a baby, and I hope it is happy and healthy and that everything goes swimmingly for the whole pregnancy and beyond.
What she said: “Don’t worry; you’ll get pregnant again. You’ve been pregnant once; you’re obviously fertile!”
What I said: “Yeah, I guess.”
What I wanted to say: Are you serious? You are a nurse, and that’s your advice to me? That’s what you think comfort is? I don’t want to step on a medical professional’s toes, but that’s the dumbest thing anyone has said to me. First off, if that statement is true, how do you explain secondary infertility? Huh? Just because I’ve been pregnant once doesn’t mean zip to me. Why? Because I didn’t get my take-home baby. Yeah, sperm met egg and it tried to implant – once. There is no guarantee that it’ll happen a second time. What if it was my only good egg? Further, who’s to say that, even if I do get pregnant again, that it will result in a take-home baby? No one. No one can guarantee that my one miscarriage is a fluke. What if there’s something actually wrong? What if I’m never able to carry a baby to term? So far, I haven’t had much success in that, so don’t tell me I’m “obviously” anything, because for all anyone knows, I’m not.
What she said: “So I would just like to let u know me and [DH] are expecting our first baby.”
What I said: “Congrats!”
What I wanted to say: I wish you hadn’t told me. I wish it was a joke. I wish I didn’t know that you weren’t actually trying, and here I am taking my temperature every morning trying to pinpoint ovulation because my cycles are FUBAR and range between 30 and 45 days. Why did you tell me? I didn’t tell you when I got a + HPT. I didn’t even tell you that I was miscarrying, or right after. I didn’t tell you anything until a month after it happened. So why are you telling me? Do you think it gives me hope? It doesn’t. It makes me really sad that I’m not pregnant. It makes me angry because I’m good at math and I know you’ll have this baby before you’ve even been married a year. I’ve been married over a year and no baby to show for it yet. So thanks for rubbing it in my face that I’m not pregnant but you are and isn’t that fucking wonderful.
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What she said: “Now u gotta getter done so our babies can be besties lol”
What I said: Nothing
What I wanted to say: That’s a really heartless thing to say. You should know by now that I’m not getting pregnant very easily, and that my one and only pregnancy has ended in a loss. You know how badly I want a baby, so you’re going to make a joke about it? If I was pregnant it would be fun and games and wonderful. But I’m not. I’m grieving my lost child. My first baby will never be my take-home baby. So l-o-fucking-l. I’m not laughing.
What she posted on facebook: (has since been deleted) something along the lines of how you feel so sick
What I wanted to say: I wish I could be sick. It would mean I’m still pregnant. Shut your mouth about feeling like crap: other people would love to be in your shoes.
What she posted on facebook: “Well at least my baby let me feel good for most of the week. Back to all day sickness”
What I wanted to say: Again, shut up. Stop complaining about being pregnant. I wish so hard that I could be pregnant; that this is all a dream and I’ll wake up and not have to cancel my first OB appointment, that I still have to clean the spare bedroom and get it ready for a baby, that I’m looking forward to maternity leave, that DH and I are arguing about middle names. I wish I wasn’t still taking my temperature, waiting for fertile CM, ordering OPKs off amazon, and going to therapy for my loss. So when you think about how shitty it is to be sick, imagine all of it being gone, and all of those plans you’re making dashed, and all of the people you’ve told, well, now you have to tell them it’s not happening any more. Imagine that for 30 seconds and then shut your mouth. I don’t want to hear you complain about being pregnant. Ever.
To be totally honest, I’ve purposefully looked at her facebook page (I’ve blocked her news from showing up on my feed). I’ve let her comments ring in my head too often. I’ve complained about her a lot. To multiple people. When she first told me, I avoided seeing her (I even had someone check if she was going to a meeting so that I wouldn’t have to face her). Even today, I don’t want to see her. If I end up in her presence, unfortunately, I won’t be able to stay. Because I’m still not ready to admit that she gets a baby before I do. It’s not fair.
I realize, life isn’t fair, everything happens for a reason, etc etc. BUT she’s always tried to compete with me (I feel this way, and another friend agrees so much that she’s told the whole torrid tale to her boyfriend). Honestly, I’ve been able to shrug it off until now. Let’s examine:
I get a good boyfriend (the first one that lasts longer than 3 months) September 2009. She gets a good boyfriend (after the worst relationship ever) September 2010.
I get engaged May 2011. She gets engaged (bigger diamond) January 2012.
I buy a house & move in October 2011. She buys a bigger house & moves in April 2012.
I get a dog (rescue) October 2011. She gets a puppy (from a breeder) May 2012.
I get married November 2012. She gets married (bigger wedding) July 2013.
I get pregnant July 2013. She gets pregnant October 2013.
I miscarry July 2013. She’s still pregnant November 2013.
She wins. I guess. If this is a contest. I was never competing. I never wanted to. I just happened to do everything first (and, in my opinion, better). Even my other friend thinks it’s ridiculous how closely she followed my timeline. All the way down to quitting birth control in April 2013, the same time I did (although I didn’t tell her).
And that’s the last thing I’ll touch on. Quitting birth control before your wedding. HUGE side-eye from me, because I was told over and over and over again that the first year is the hardest year of marriage. And then, when you have a baby, it’s supposed to get even harder. I wasn’t about to throw a wrench into our first year (nor having an unexpected period on my wedding/honeymoon), so I stayed on the pill until we were 5 months in. Less hormones = less crazy = less fights. She quit before she was even married. And now, 4 months into her marriage, she’s pregnant. She went on her honeymoon knocked up (sounds boring to me; that sushi and those exotic drinks were amazing). They’ll have this baby before they’ve reached the one year mark*.
I’m not the only one who thinks they rushed into this marriage (especially given her history with men). And here they are, rushed into a baby. Honestly, I hope for their sakes that it all works out, but who knows at this point. I never had high hopes.
I sound like an awful friend. Maybe I am. Maybe I don’t want her in my life. But maybe I’m nice enough to play nice until life separates us somehow, so I don’t have to say “I don’t like you; have a nice life”.
* A co-worker of mine got pregnant on her honeymoon. She had twins! They are adorable. She did not get a side-eye from me though, because she and her husband were together for like TEN YEARS before they got married. I’m pretty sure she was in her early 30’s. They hadn’t known each other for only 3 years, nor were either of them new to their professions, so no side-eye from me. They had their shit together.
I’m just upset that it’s not me. I’m upset that it wasn’t me this last cycle. I’m upset that she’s not taking my feelings into account, like I think a friend should.