Today’s post is not going to be a happy one. I really thought I was doing okay, and that I have made peace with my future. A friend revealed to me that she was 12 weeks pregnant today. And although I am happy for her, I can’t help but be sad for myself. It is moments like these that remind me of my childless grief.
Sad for my husband, sad for our future and sad for our failure.
It hit me hard, so very hard. And now I am on her support team, because I don’t when to shut up and look after myself. My husband understands my childless grief, but doesn’t feel it. All he can think is that we are better to be childless than to have the worry of having an aging egg meeting a sperm and running the risk of complications.
And intellectually I agree with him. I don’t have the fortitude to make a tough decision or to live with a tough decision. Although I may appear confident and capable, I am none of those things. I hide my pain and grief behind a smiling face. This is just so I can just get things done.
I can’t even lie and say that I am not jealous.
My friend had some legitimate worries and concerns, due to an early miscarriage in the previous year, and requires possibly more comfort and support than I can offer. I didn’t even know about that pregnancy as she didn’t feel I was in a good space to offer assistance. The one thing that hurt the most, was how her husband handled her miscarriage and the support he gave her. I never got any of that, and I may even be jealous of that.
I have to start wondering about the many years wasted on a bad decision, and the wrong man. The cost of this decision was my possible fertile years.
I just feel alone. Lost. Sad. Grieving.