My love,
In my experience, no matter how long a woman battles infertility, if she does get pregnant, she inevitably switches teams: from the barren to the blessed. There’s no set time on when this happens. Maybe once she gets a positive pregnancy test, once she’s escaped the uncertainty of the first trimester or at her baby shower. Doesn’t matter; from what I’ve observed, it’s a sure bet. And I’m sure I won’t be the exception.
During the time we’ve been trying meet you, I’ve witnessed the pregnancies and births of three close friends. Sometimes it’s hard, other times it’s exciting. It all depends on what’s going on in the rest of my world.
Tonight I found out that your Aunt Renee is pregnant with her second. They went through hell to get their first child, and double that for the newest one. For this, I’m incredibly excited for her. It’s what came after the announcement that left a sour taste in my mouth. Through all of our conversations regarding infertility efforts and the lack of etiquette most people seem to have, the last thing I expected was for her to gush about morning sickness, choosing names, and ultrasounds.
But there it was. On the other end of the telephone line, holding my ears and my brain hostage. I suppose, for her part, it was more out of relief that their final try worked, and for that I truly can’t hold it against her. But I think it’s made me that much more aware of how I’ll behave when you make yourself known. However, like I said, who knows what will happen when I switch teams?
Goodnight, my dear. Don’t forget to brush your teeth.
Love,
Me
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