Tuesday 20 January 2015

My sister

My sister is pregnant, and expecting her little one in June. I am happy for her, especially because I worried that the same saddness spewing infertility that touched our lives may have affected hers too.  

Luckily, it didn't, and it "only" took them 8 months to conceive.  She said the month that she found out she was pregnant was the month she began to think that she might have infertility.  That was the month that we brought Babykins home. 

I had no idea they were trying.  Or "not preventing" as she puts it.  To an infertile, I feel like those are the practically the same thing. 

Last night we found out the baby's gender.  Babykins will have a boy cousin less than 8 months younger than him (he? I am confused about my grammar and I am much too lazy to look it up). 

I am excited that Babykins will have a cousin the same age as him.   I am excited to have the opportunity to share in our parenting experiences together. That is truly a dream come true, especially because our friends' kids were born 8.6 million years ago. 

Here's the problem though. My sister is becoming one of *those* preggos to me, and it's getting harder for me to ignore.  For example, she sends me weekly updates via text message about what size of fruit or veg she is now carrying.  I'm running out of responses. 

Her boyfriend created an oh-so-adorable video on facebook of a collaboration of family and friends' elated responses to their news. It was very touching and I cried happy tears when I watched it. And then, I swiftly had a little pang of something ugly and jealous in my heart. 

To be clear, I'm not jealous of her pregnancy.  I'm actually quite pleased that I didn't have to squish Babykins out of my vagina.  I'm jealous of her naivety.  Of her pure bare-faced happiness and confidence in her growing little navel orange, and perhaps in this world. 

Digging deep, I realize that I'm the most peeved that she maybe doesn't treat me as an infertile anymore. Yes, I am a mother.  But I also earned my nasty little infertile badge too. One does not replace the other. 

I want to be rid of these feelings. I have ignored them for a while, but they keep announcing their presence, louder each time.  So, I'm acknowledging them here, in the hope that they now can calm the freak down. 

I hear you, infertile feelings. I get it. I know why you are here. I am still very inferile.  I won't forget you. I will always remember my wounds and scars. I promised myself that I wouldn't forget and I won't.  But this is my sister, and my nephew.  Won't you please now get lost? 

7 comments:

  1. Oh, I feel you. Once an infertile, always an infertile. Although I too am holding my little miracles, the sting of pregnancy is far less but BAM does it still hit me and sting me. I still cannot stand the people that say "ya, we are going for #3 in March) OH THE LUXERY. Whenever I hear a pregnancy announcement I still cringe a bit because pregnancy failed me. I am so grateful to hold my children during this and that takes so much of the blow off though. I would be annoyed about the fruit updates :) You are nice!

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  2. That does sound hard... fruit updates. Geez. You certainly earned your infertility badge. And I think it's okay to polish it up and pin it on and remind her (gently) that some things will always be triggers no matter how long you're a mom, no matter how many kids you have. Failed cycles and pregnancy loss were just not that long ago for you. But I think it's also okay to unpin the badge and shove it in a drawer somewhere. Your journey and your right to belong will never be forgotten here.

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  3. I'm almost 7 months pregnant and I have not forgotten for one second during those 7 months what infertility feels like. I still get upset at insensitive comments about fertility, and sometimes I snap about them to my husband. He always reminds me, "you're getting a baby, you don't have to be bitter anymore." And I don't want to be bitter, but I definitely still am a lot of the time. I'm sure it is hard especially when it's your sister. Hopefully she can show a little more sensitivity. Congratulations on your nephew!

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  4. "I'm jealous of her naivety. Of her pure bare-faced happiness and confidence in her growing little navel orange, and perhaps in this world."---> THIS. These are the words I've tried to come up with lately to describe my pregnant friends. I am 9 months pregnant, so the announcements shouldn't sting as much, but they still do. I have a friend who announced on FB at 7 weeks, before she had even had an ultrasound. Another dear friend announced on FB the DAY she got a positive pee stick! I have started to feel happy about announcements, because it means people are still having babies around me and my daughter will have friends in my friends' children. But the naivety, I am jealous of that. I will never, ever be able to be that. So, I get it. I wish your sister did too.

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  5. I don't think I'll ever be able to look at fertiles without some small amount of annoyance and jealousy, simply because this stuff comes so easy to them. They don't feel the need to worry, and a lot of them have this total blissful ignorance about all the million little things that needed to line up perfectly for them to get pregnant. I don't know that any of us who's gone through IF should ever be expected to react totally "normally" to other pregnancies. I think your feelings are totally justified!

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  6. I took a blogger out of my newsfeed because she did a bumpdate with fruits and vegetables. Perhaps you could tell her you're more interested in knowing how she's feeling and less about the baby centre info.

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  7. Boy, do I get this! I am having this problem with my neighbors who just had a baby. I find myself so jealous of them and it seems so silly. I think it's how easy everything was for them and their blissful ignorance. It's weird how I am bothered by some and not by others.

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