
Photo by Stephanie Himel-Nelson
When you’re suffering from infertility or you’ve had multiple miscarriages, it can be hard to watch your friends and family celebrate pregnancy and birth after pregnancy and birth. I know.
You’ve all heard about my history of miscarriage and infertility, but I haven’t yet shared how I deal with pregnancy around me. In the last 6 months or so, two of my best friends, my dear cousin and my sister-in-law have all announced pregnancies. Yes, it was hard, but I was thrilled for each of them. I know what a blessing a child is and how can I possibly begrudge someone else’s longed-for child? I want the people I love to be happy.
I was so excited when my brother (B) told me he and his wife (F) were expecting several months ago. I remember the day well because I was traveling and in meetings and my brother couldn’t reach me on the phone. B finally resorted to texting me and I read his news while in my very first face-to-face meeting with the people behind the Attain Fertility community. I squealed, interrupting the meeting, and shared the news. B and F had been trying for some time and everyone in the meeting understood exactly why I was so excited. They all dedicate their professional lives to informing us about treatment options for infertility and rejoice when one of us succeeds. My brother’s news was greeted with congratulations all around!
On my way home that evening, I thought about my little nephew or niece-to-be and how happy I was for B and F. Then I thought about how great it would be if we could give the baby-to-be a little cousin about the same age. And I felt that pang of sadness and regret. You all know what I mean. It’s the feeling you can’t avoid, no matter how happy you are for someone else. It’s the regret that you can’t have that happiness too.
As I watched B and F’s announcement on Facebook and all of the congratulations from our families and their friends, I felt that pang again. But I reminded myself that their pregnancy isn’t about me. It’s about their new family. I got over myself and then I debated how long I should wait before buying something for B and F’s new little one. In the past I’ve had a hard time feeling hopeful when I discovered that I was newly pregnant, but I didn’t want to transfer my anxieties to B and F. I wanted them, and everyone else, to rejoice over the new pregnancy.
Then, on Friday I got the call from my brother. B and F had gone in for an ultrasound and there was no heartbeat. She miscarried.
Now, more than ever, I wish I could tell my little brother just how to fix this; that I had some magic words to make them feel better. I warned B that he may get over this, or at least be able to push it from his mind, a little more easily than F, but to understand that F may not. Aside from that, all I can do is tell them how sorry I am and that I’ll always be there to listen. I don’t want to offer empty platitudes that I know from experience will only make B and F feel more alone right now. But, of course, I can’t stop thinking about them and hoping that they know how much they are loved.
What do you wish your friends and family would say to you about your infertility or losses? What helps you feel a bit better?