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."
"Well...good luck."
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.
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5 comments:
For me it's hard not to hand out phone numbers and websites and blog names as soon as someone mentions they are "trying". I don't wish my experiences on anyone, however I do end up with weird feelings of resentment when either it works for them quickly or when they just look at me, see my pregnancy, and almost sneer.
As I was advised in my friend's case when I blogged about it earlier, it's just best to listen and hope they find a simple comfort in that.
My husband says that talking about the weather is the lowest possible form of communication. But, ain't it also the easiest?
Go with your gut. If its too painful to go there with this woman, you are not under any obligation to do so. Trust yourself.
You know, I feel the exact same way lately. I have a friend (only known her for a little while) that had a miscarriage back several months ago and they just found out that they're pregnant again. She told me on Sunday that their first ultrasound was Monday. I went home and cried, pretty much all day. I mean, why can't I be happy for people? I get so jealous. Emotions are so complicated, and I feel like I'm constantly pushing mine aside, and hiding them from people.
I have like that some days. A lot of days, actually-- like there is no bandwidth. And like if I go there, there will be pain olympics that can't be won but promise a world of hurt. Some days I am stronger, and I can take it. A lot of days, I can't.
You don't have to. There may come a day when you can. But for now it's ok to not be able to. Weather is fascinating this year, isn't it?
Hon, you can only do what you can, but if you can't talk to her directly, then give her the link to Stirrup Queens and the Baby Loss Directory.
If you aren't able to give back just yet, then give her a way to find support.
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