It seems like a day cannot go by without an announcement from someone that they are either pregnant or have given birth. Every single day. And I'm not exaggerating. I have a moment of angst, of pity, of sadness....and then I do what I do. I smile, I send a note of congratulations, ask when the due date is or when can I see a picture of the little bundle.
This morning, sometime between dreaming and being fully awake, I realized that I am taking out all of my resentment for pregnant people on a specific person. I am taking out my hurt feelings for lack of support from my family on her. Unfairly, I readily admit. But I am directing it all to her.
Because of the way she handled a situation.
Because of the way she reacted when I told her that if I got pregnant next month, I would have a baby for her wedding ("you better not steal my thunder").
Because of the way she told me she was pregnant.
Because of the way I specifically reached out to all my siblings and my older nieces, to let them know I was trying to get pregnant. That I was telling everyone early because I wanted, and might need, their support. And then never heard another word from the majority of them.
Because of the way the majority of them never sent me a note or reached out with their sympathies when I lost the only pregnancy I ever had. (And at this point, the only one I ever will have.)
And she is the symbol of it all. She is where I direct my anger and resentment.
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