I miscarried a baby in May, and I’ve thought several times about letting my teeny blogging world in on the news (though I don’t know if anyone still reads this thing, since I’ve been the slacker-as-always), but just never got around to it. Never had the right words. I didn’t need sympathy. I didn’t want words of encouragement. Our miscarriage was just another step along the way in my life, through our marriage, and for our family. It wasn’t an easy process, but it wasn’t the end of our world, either. I have an amazingly supportive husband, and together we have faith.
This morning, I laid in bed for a few extra minutes, not quite wanting to get up and start the day, when I thought about a friend who has recently become pregnant. I realized that not once since I heard her news have I felt anything but thrilled for her, her husband, and their first child. I’ve been excited that they’re adding to their brood and happy that there’ll be another wonderful baby for me to admire and visit. As I ignored the alarm clock and smiled about my friend’s good fortune, it dawned on me that I must really be doing okay with my miscarriage.
However…
Casey’s best friend at day care is a little boy named Lucas. When the two of them see each other in the mornings, they run to one another and dole out HUGE hugs (which caused them to fall on top of each other and bang heads yesterday morning!). I wrote about Lucas in Casey’s baby book one night this week, mentioning that he’s her first “real” friend that she made all on her own. Because there’s a space to include a picture of the friend, I made a mental note to ask Lucas’ parents’ permission to take a shot of the two together. I don’t see his parents every day, as our dropoff and pickup times don’t always correspond, but I figured I would get a chance soon enough.
This morning, Lucas and his mom drove into the day care’s parking lot just after Casey and I. We walked over to their car, and Casey waved excitedly at Lucas while waiting for his mom to hoist him out of his car seat. While Lucas’ mom was leaning into the car to get him, I noticed that she had a stylish, cloth band at the top of the back of her jeans and thought, “That’s cute – and funny, in a way – I had a pair of maternity jeans like that.” Once we got inside of the building and I actually saw the front and side of Lucas’ mother, it hit me like a truck… “Ohmigod, she IS pregnant.” She had the most adorable belly and had probably ‘popped’ just recently.
I was so completely taken aback by this realization that I couldn’t utter a single word. I didn’t ask Lucas’ mom about taking a picture of our kiddos, I didn’t ask her about being pregnant (because I didn’t want to be rude), etc. I just signed Casey in, dropped off her towel and change of clothes/shoes (Fridays are Splash Days! yea!), and gave her a big kiss good bye.
I walked out to my car feeling ANGRY. I was sooooooo pissed off, thinking that Lucas’ mom is probably due around the same time or just slightly after I would have been due with my “Baby Bou Too” (our pre-miscarriage pet name for the baby). And if we would have had our second children around the same time as one another, they could have gone through Chesterbrook together and been best friends just like Lucas and Casey. I felt consumed with jealousy and anger, and had a churning stomach about my misfortune. I couldn’t help it.
I arrived to work feeling completely sorry for myself and oh-so-upset about this “what if” missed opportunity for my next child’s supposed new best friend (seriously, how crazy were my thoughts?). Before I could even get settled at my desk, however, I was confronted by a coworker with good news – her cousin, who had been trying to get pregnant for QUITE some time (and had been a topic of our conversations and hopes) was finally expecting a baby.
My heart leapt in excitement. “Really????? No way! Ohmigosh, I’m sooooo happy for her!” I gushed. And I meant it. And, sheepishly, I realized that up until that point, I hadn’t felt happiness for Lucas’ growing family. Talk about a wake up call…
Since this morning, I have thought about what I’ll do the next time I see Lucas’ mom and how I can honestly tell her how joyous I am for her. I have thought about how I don’t like that I had a miscarriage – but that I know in my heart if Baby Bou Too had been born, our next child (should God bless us with another) wouldn’t have existed, because the timing wouldn’t have been exactly what it will be when it happens.
I may not be able to fully avoid a future knee-jerk jealous reaction… but if I have one, I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to squelch the anger and envy quickly. And I’ll remind myself to just dwell on the fact that I’m exactly where I need to be, and so is my family.
