When Will It Stop?
Originally published at Welcome To The Dollhouse. You can comment here or there.
Luda, my trainer, is pregnant.
I don’t know how I missed it before since she is showing. Maybe I didn’t want to see. I dunno.
What I do know is that I felt that familiar resentment starting up once again. And I hate myself for it.
How petty a person can I be to keep turning someone else’s pregnancy into an oh-poor-me pity party? I used to be a better person, a bigger person, and a much less ridiculous person before being faced with infertility. Now, I’m just a crappy, crying whiner.
I did try to keep it together this time, but Luda sussed me out. Usually our sessions are filled with frivolity and groaning. This time, I just focused on what I had to do and zoned out. I said almost nothing, fearful that if I spoke, my voice would crack and the tears would start to flow. Finally, she said, “did my news upset you?”
“I’m happy for you,” I replied, not really having addressed the question.
I continued my chest presses fighting the tears that started welling in my eyes. What the fuck am I crying about? I chastised myself mentally. So she’s pregnant. Good for her. What’s that got to do with you? Why are you crying?
The truth is that I don’t really know anymore. I thought I envied the pregnant woman’s impending motherhood. Yet I’m closer to motherhood than Luda is right now (I mean, Luda is already a mother of 3, but I think you get what I mean). I’ll be a mother soon, if all goes well. So it doesn’t make sense for it to be the motherhood that gets me.
Is it still pregnancy envy? That feeling of why does she get to be pregnant and I don’t. But come on, that is getting more than a little old. What am I? Five years old?
What I do know is that I want these ridiculous feelings to stop. I want to congratulate someone’s pregnancy without any petty why-not-me thoughts coming up. I want to be able to go to a baby shower and not feel like I was cheated. I want to return to the grown up Liana I was before infertility entered my life.
When will these infantile feelings stop? When will my heart and soul begin to heal?