Baby Guilt

I know this is going to sound really odd to those who have never dealt with infertility but I'm fairly certain those of us who have will get it. I feel guilty about my surprise pregnancy and the ease with which it's progressed. I miraculously ovulated without meds and managed to make it through my entire first trimester without progesterone supplementation. Yes, I had some spotting in early pregnancy but because I wasn't aware I was pregnant, I didn't worry about it. I thought it was a super short period and left it at that. That I've made it this far without any complications is virtually unheard of--and I'm so thankful. And yet...

After the initial excitement and elation of the positive pregnancy test, I was consumed with guilt. "How the hell am I going to tell so-and-so about this?" Yes, I realize that women suffering through infertility aren't made of glass. Honestly, we're probably more emotionally strong than most women. We learn to steel those expressions and suck it up and deal with all the babies and pregnancies of our friends and family members. We grin and accept all the patronizing and often insulting "advice" from friends and family. We learn to deal with the natural feelings of worthlessness and jealousy and depression. We push through life despite the emptiness we feel every time we see a stroller or a baby bump or our husbands playing with this niece or that nephew all the while knowing we're the reason he can't have a child of his own.

And yet when we finally get that one thing we've wanted more than anything in the world, we're instantly consumed with immense guilt. Every time I feel Zaphod move or see his/her little face on the ultrasound screen, I rejoice but that happiness is always tempered with sadness. I feel so badly for all those women in my life who have lost their babies to miscarriages or who can't even get a single positive ovulation cycle. When these women are snippy with me or make snide remarks, I let them go. I remember what it felt like to bite my tongue and feign happiness for others even though I was dying inside. They're in pain, and if sniping makes them feel better for just the tiniest of moments, then so be it. I'll be your punching bag.

Of course there are women like my cousin, Suzie, who is so genuinely loving and caring and supportive despite the hell she's been through time and again. The woman has the brightest and warmest maternal and nurturing instinct I've ever seen. Even as she's struggled with infertility and lost babies, she's always been there for everyone else--even going so far as to provide fulltime care and support and nurturing to her four nieces and nephews. Hell, she even came over to visit during my trip to E-town and talked about my nursery plans and my health and the baby--all while she's still waiting for a birth mother match for their adoption. Seriously, she's just amazing. We'd all do well to take a page out of her playbook and learn something of graciousness and goodness.