I have two competing factions within me.
One, that has been getting more and more annoyed with each new pregnancy announcement. Two people on their third pregnancy. A girl from work, who had her daughter after McLovin was born, announcing her second. A boy. (And I do find her incredibly annoying regardless – one of those who always wants to do lunch but never follows through, everyone’s best friend, has to be the center of attention. I stopped doing lunch with her and her group because I dislike her so; so it’s not just the pregnancy.) An acquaintance from high school on her fourth pregnancy.
That bitter side of me taking over. Why do they need three? Why do they need FOUR? Why is she having a second already; she must have been pregnancy before her first was one! Logically I know it is none of my business, and that other people having babies takes nothing away from me, and that just because it FEELS like other people are “using up” all the baby luck doesn’t mean it is true.
Then the other side of me feeling guilty. I never want McLovin to feel like he isn’t enough. That I don’t know how lucky I am to have him. That I don’t know what a miracle he is. That I wish for more. Every day I know what a miracle he is. Every day I know how lucky I am to have him. Every day I know that many others are still struggling to even have one, never mind two or four.
These two sides battle within me. And then I can’t decide which is stronger and I settle in to something comfortable on TV. Sex and the City; Curb; Mad Men. Oldies but goodies that can distract me from these feelings. I’ve read some books (always open to suggestions too!): Little Fires Everywhere; Summer Sisters; Something in the Water. Transported to other people’s stories or problems, none of it real, none of it with real consequences.
I think of the Supreme Court. Yes, Massachusetts is a liberal state. But what if we tried again and the worst happened, again? What if I didn’t have that option or it was limited? I know what my decision would be if we had a terrible diagnosis, again, but what if I am not allowed to have that decision?
All these thoughts. But it feels better to type it out anyway.
McLovin is the light though. Every night when I put him to bed I can’t believe he is mine, that I get to be his mom, that he is with us. He is the proof that it can happen for us, that it DID happen for us, that maybe it can happen again.