She's been dropping little hints here and there every time I see her in the gym during kindergarten pickup. At first she commented about the age difference between Sam and Myles. I don't remember, quite honestly, if I told her why there is such an age difference. I think I might have. Apparently whatever I said was seen as common ground of sorts.
The next time I saw her she mentioned that her and her husband have been "trying" to have another baby without much luck. I know how these conversations often go...how people make a big deal of their two or three months of "trying" and, quite frankly, irritate the hell out of me.
Then the next time I saw her she mentioned she had had "an early miscarriage." I felt anxious about the possibility of having that conversation where my experience is compared to someone else's. I was so thankful when the kids came barreling into the gym and we were able to say our goodbyes and I could get away.
And then there was yesterday...
Yesterday I felt ashamed of myself and sad for her. They've been trying since their kindergartener was three months old. That's FIVE YEARS! I can only imagine the frustration and sadness. I wanted to give her a hug and tell her how sorry I am, but I know, given the complexity of my own emotions, it might be an unwelcome display. So I just said I'm sorry and listened to the rest. And boy, did I get an earful!
It's not her. They did testing and everything is fine with her. Her husband has a low sperm count (a fact I'm sure he'd be thrilled to learn she has shared with a virtual stranger in the gymnasium of their daughter's elementary school).
"Have you ever heard of Clomid? It's a fertility drug?"
"Oh yeah, sure."
"Well, I guess they did a study and they're putting men on it now."
"Does that work?"
"Yep. If it works like they say it will, he should be at the low end of normal. So that's something."
Good luck. Yeah. You're gonna need it.
And while I really do wish her luck, I dread the day the happy news is announced.
This sucks. I feel like I can't be anyone anymore. I can only be so supportive and understanding before my own baggage gets in the way and I want to run away screaming. I want to help and be supportive and non-judgmental. I want to be the someone to confide in that she's hoping I am. But I can't. I won't. It is too hard...too draining. I've been through enough for myself and people I already know. I can't do it for her too. I wish I could.
I miss things being simple.
I really miss chatting about the weather.