Sharing the Hurt

Yesterday, I received a phone call.

No. Wait. I need to back up a minute. This summer, when we started trying again, a fellow coworker (P) shared with me that she was TTC #2. She is an "older" mom (her definition, not mine) at 39, and after having a beautiful little girl two years ago, they were eager to jump on the train again before her egg factory shut down (also her words). I then told her that we were trying, too, and she knows a little bit about our history, so we became cycle buddies.

In August, she called me up and excitedly told me that she was pregnant. I was happy for her, although I was more than a little sad for me. That was the cycle that I had a chemical pregnancy on, so I was also jealous beyond words. I had a few "why her and not me" moments, to be sure.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to a meeting with P. We flew down together, worked together during the meeting, and then flew home. I tried very hard to be a good friend to her, and listened to her pregnancy woes. P is very tiny and this is her second, so at 10 weeks, she was already started to pooch out a little bit. It was so hard to spend all that time with her. I desperately wanted to be pregnant, she had what I wanted. I didn't begrudge P her happiness, I just wanted to be there with her.

This past Tuesday, we had another meeting, this time with my entire workgroup. P had ended up telling our manager about her pregnancy, but was not planning on making a big announcement to everyone until she was safely past the 12 week mark and her first ultrasound. Our manager "outed" her a bit early, by making the announcement that day.

I sat next to P later that afternoon and looked at her with what can only be described as envy. I did not wish any ill to P or her unborn child. But as I watched her casually rest a hand on her abdoment or happily eat a second brownie for dessert and say "For the baby," my heart just ached. I couldn't figure out why some people have it so easy and some people have it so hard.

P and her husband are great parents. She desperately loves her little girl and talks about her all of the time. They deserve to be parents as many times as they would like. I truly held no grudge against P becoming a mommy again. But as I looked at her growing stomach that day in the meeting, I felt the sharp edge of jealousy ripping through my soul. I imagined her getting bigger, watching her feel the baby kick, and of course, I knew that there would be a shower.

P was sensitive to me. She knows what we have been through. She never once flaunted her pregnancy in front of me. She was just a naturally, happy carefree pregnant woman, who was excited about being a mommy for the second time.

P's 12 week ultrasound was yesterday. I had asked her to call me with the good news.

I got a phone call yesterday. P's baby had no heartbeat.