And just like that I’m deep in the pit again. As low as I’ve ever been.
I’m warning anyone who might be reading this, the text to follow is an outrageous episode of self pity and despair. I encourage you to move on to the next post in your reader now. I don’t want to suck you in to my disgusting display of self sabotage.
Not only is it the first day of my first period since our loss and my husband, AKA security blanket, is away and unreachable but an hour ago one of my closest and dearest friends and colleague of seven years just confided in me that she’s pregnant. Friends have done this before. It hurt and I eventually broke up with them but this one is the lowest blow, through no fault of her own. It’s all me. But I’ve been expecting it. No matter how much I knew this would happen, I’m more traumatised than ever.
She told me before her parents even, because she knows how much pain I’m in. And because we had a deal : she was to tell me as soon as she felt comfortable because I will have to start looking for a new job before she tells our office. Her due date is 3 weeks after mine was meant to be. She is 12 weeks. I now have one month.
She doesn’t even want kids. She’s doing it for her husband. She got the wedding, now he gets the family. That was the agreement, an arrangement made many years ago. Very straightforward. I envy her indifference.
I’ve been preparing for this moment for months. But I had anticipated being there with her, my due date was a few weeks before hers. We are meant to be sharing experiences together, sharing our mat leave together, enduring our new baby anxiety, then sharing childcare as we go back to work. That was the plan. She held up her part of the bargain, I didn’t. I’m the one who let the whole plan go to shit because I can’t carry a child to term to save my life. No matter how hard I try.
I knew when this moment would come that I would have to change jobs. That I could no longer be friends with her. She was one of three people outside of my husband and therapist who knows most of what’s going on in our lives.
So now I will be mourning our friendship. I will be mourning the loss of our shared future. I will be mourning the job that has been so amazing to have when juggling doctors appointments and taking time off for miscarriages and procedures.
But the alternative is unbearable. The alternative is sitting at my desk as our bosses and colleagues gush over her pregnancy for the next 6 months. It is a tiny office we share where no one knows my situation, except for her. I know that every comment, every poke, every conversation will be about her. About the baby. How can I endure that? I can’t. And I hate myself for it. Why am I not brave enough?
She will never make a big deal out of it, and I can thank her for that. Having just had her 12 week scan she is now scared shitless. I wish I could be a good friend and share in that experience with her but I am a coward and I can’t. I simply cannot cope with this information.
I feel hurt. I feel upset that she didn’t tell me sooner when I told her about my high risk pregnancy at 6 weeks. Even though I know why she didn’t. She was pregnant and keeping it from me while I was in the process of losing our baby. I’m devastated. Part of the reason why I confided in her was because she didn’t want to be pregnant, it was an unattached, unbiased kind of support I got from her. I wish I was as strong and solid as her but I was weak, I told her because I needed support. I am furious with myself for ever confiding in her and anyone else.
She sobbed because she knows I am breaking up with her too. Because that’s the end of the road for us. That everything changes from this point. So now I’ve lost another close friend. I will lose my job. I am more alone now than I’ve ever been. And it’s all my own doing. Self sabotage at its finest.
My immediate reaction is to try again as soon as possible so that I can catch up to her. But I know nothing has changed, nothing has been solved, I’m in no better situation than I was before I knew. I still make a habit out of losing babies. And we promised ourselves we would take the time to investigate and try the treatment plans available should new information arise. If we run out and get knocked up now (if it were only that easy) we might be in the same place again a few months down the line. Worse off.
Why is this so painful. Why can’t I cope!? Why can’t I just get it together? Why am I the only one to force this break. I’m willing to lose one of my closest confidants and my job because I simply cannot cope. Why can I recognise everything that is wrong in how I feel and still allow it to destroy me? I truly disgust myself. It is all such a waste.