Wanting to have a child and not being able to is really hard. It is traumatic. Trying to conceive month after month is an emotional rollercoaster. Every. Single. Time.
I swing from having total conviction that I will get pregnant to feeling like a failure as a woman.
The failure part hits me particularly when someone I know announces that they are pregnant. There are a lot of feelings which surround this. When it is someone I don't know very well, it's just outright jealousy and a feeling of unfairness. Why does she get a baby and I don't? When I don't know them very well, I can manage to not take it too personally. However, when it is a close friend, particularly one who knows we are having trouble conceiving, that is awful.
Over the last few years, I've had many people in my life become pregnant. Some closer friends than others. I've dealt with some of them badly, have distanced myself from them and have cried - a lot - over their 'easy' fertility journey. The experience which has hit me hardest was my best friend becoming pregnant.
I want to make it very clear: I do not hate people who can get pregnant easily. I am jealous, it hurts me, but those negative feelings are about me feeling sad for me. I don't dislike them because they are pregnant or have children. I am so happy that they have got pregnant and have children and I'm really glad they haven't had to go through the pain of infertility.
My best friend and I have been close since we were 3 years old. We've been through a lot together, from playing games as children where we would be 'pregnant' (jumper stuffed up the t-shirt) and look after our babies (sometimes a cat, but more usually a doll), to being bridesmaids for each other. She knows as much about me as pretty much anyone in the world does. She remembers stories from primary school which I had forgotten. She's always been there for me. I can tell her anything.
Except how I really felt about her being pregnant.
Not long before she fell pregnant, we had a girly day watching movies and talking. I told her about our infertility journey so far. About the tests and treatments. About how I felt about other people in my life with children. I told her she was one of the last of my friends in a relationship who didn't have children. I asked her to please tell me if/when she and her husband started trying, so that I could adjust myself to the idea. I wasn't in a great place at this point. I was pretty low mood-wise, we hadn't been able to start the clomifene yet and I was finding things quite complex and challenging. Looking back on it, it was totally unreasonable of me to put that kind of pressure on her. Just because I am willing to open myself up and tell people private things about my reproductive health doesn't mean anyone else should be.
A few weeks later, I got an email from her telling me, in a very sensitive and considered way, that she was pregnant.
"The reason I am emailing you this is because I want you to be able to react in whatever way you need to. I've thought a lot about how to tell you this and, knowing you as I do, I thought that a phonecall would be unfair given your issues with telephone calls, and to tell you to your face could really put you on the spot.
You have probably worked out what it is I want to tell you; I am having a baby and I'm currently just over 9 weeks pregnant.
I know this is going to be really difficult for you and I sincerely hope that you are not too upset. I know you asked me to tell you when we were trying but it was something so personal to us that we agreed not to tell anyone.
You have been my best friend for as long as I can remember and knowing that I am going to upset you really breaks my heart. I want you to take whatever time you need and I will leave it up to you when we next see/speak to each other, I can't imagine what you are going through, but I do understand if you are not ready to see me.
We have only told our immediate families so far and I would be immensely grateful if you could keep it between yourselves (and your parents if you need their support). My grandparents, our aunties, uncles and other close friends aren't aware yet. We plan to tell them after 12 weeks but I wanted you to know early so you had a bit of time.
Please know that I keep everything crossed that this will happen for you too, I know you would both be fantastic parents and have so much to offer a child."
This is one of the many reasons I am proud to say that she is one of my best friends. She is the kindest and most generous people I have ever met.
My first reaction was (brutally honestly) absolute misery. I thought it was so unfair. How could she? Why would she do this to me? She knew it would hurt me - how could she get pregnant? I cried. A lot.
After I'd realised how much of a b*tch I was being, I felt a different kind of misery. I felt deeply sad that I had made my friend, my best friend, think of me during what was surely a joyful time in her life. The fact that she had obviously put a lot of thought into how to tell me news which she must have been delighted about but knew would make me sad. I felt like I'd betrayed her. I felt like I had stolen some of her joy. I felt horrible. I was pleased, I was delighted that she had got pregnant. That she and her husband would be having a baby. I felt awful that she had worried about me and my reaction, but I also felt a huge surge of love for her and for her baby. I became aware of just how special this friendship was.
Receiving this email also enabled me to deal with it in my own way. She didn't do it face to face, where I would have had to pretend to be instantly delighted while fighting back tears (trust me, I've done it). I wouldn't have to ask all the questions you are expected to ask - she'd told me everything I needed to know and she had done it in such a kind, careful and considered way. She had left the ball in my court, she recognised that she couldn't understand what I would be feeling but that she was there for me when I wanted. This actually made it easier for me to contact her. If she had wanted to see me immediately, I probably would have distanced myself from her. Because she had been so sensitive, I was able to see that I needed to be a grown up about it.
I made some ginger biscuits and a card and sent them to her. In the card I said congratulations, and thanked her for how kind she'd been. How I would never want to miss out on it and that I love her. Since then, we've been fine. We texted a lot through her pregnancy, I went to her parties and her baby shower. I visited her lots while she was pregnant and visited her lovely baby boy.
Honestly, I got through a lot of it by forcing myself to be interested, forcing myself to show how happy for her I was and then dealing with the negative emotions on my own time. I knew there was no need for me to be nasty, or to make her feel bad for something which is so positive for her. It was hard some of the time. But I NEVER hated her. I NEVER wished she wasn't pregnant. I was happy for her. I was sad that it wasn't happening for me.
It still sometimes makes me sad. It sometimes overwhelms me with this deep feeling of longing.
But mostly, it makes me feel so so proud of her. And so grateful to have a friend like her.
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