No eggshells here

I had dinner with a friend tonight who will give birth toher first child in a few months. It was an amazing evening!

I still remember the day she told me she was pregnant. She knew we had been trying unsuccessfully for awhile, but she hoped I would share good news the evening we got together.

I didn’t … and she tried with all her might to find different ways that maybe I could be pregnant. Finally, after I convinced her there was no mistake, she hesitantly shared her good news.

I was surprised but excited … and felt terrible because she was worried about how I would react. I assured her that it was wonderful!

I then cried all the way home.

Not because I wasn’t happy for her (never that!) but because I was sad for us. I just needed a self-pity moment and then I was good. In fact, I started planning her shower the very next day. 😀

This all happened while we were still “trying.”

After our visit with the fertility specialist,  I thought babies, kids and showers would really bring me down. I can’t tell you how many forum posts I’ve read from women who are angry or upset about friends or relatives having children. Or even posts from women who can’t stand the thought of going to a shower.

That is their right, of course, because everyone grieves differently. It’s also probable these women have been struggling for a very long time.

I get it.

For me, though, I can’t stand the thought of feeling that way. I love babies and kids so much. And, honestly, I have to be happy for mamas-to-be. I wouldn’t wish infertility on anyone.

Heck, I was even happy for the very fertile Duggar family when I saw their newest addition on television. Trust me, I would have gagged before.

What it boils down to is I don’t want anyone to be scared to share their joy with me. I don’t want to be one of those women people walk on eggshells around.

Tell me you’re pregnant. If you* had trouble conceiving, tell me that as well. I want to be excited with you. I want to buy your baby all kinds of things and love it (and you) to pieces. I want to babysit and snuggle. I want to be spit up on. I want to know when he or she reaches milestones. Basically, I want to be the best “auntie” out there.

Just like I know you will be for mine one day.

*Plural you. Not directed at anyone specific. 😉


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