Yesterday, we toured the maternity center where we'll deliver.
It was a surreal experience. I'm not going to lie; sometimes it's hard for me to go into the nursery to see the baby's crib. And I've been extra careful to keep track of the receipts to all of our baby purchases. A huge part of me still believes I won't get to take home a healthy baby in a few months. But touring the maternity center yesterday made this all finally seem real.
I loved the center. The rooms felt more like a hotel than a hospital. Thus, I kept thinking of the experience as a vacation my husband will take in December. It will be like a destination race; I'll work really hard but then I'll get the most awesome souvenir ever
Needless to say, I left the maternity center on a high.
Then I went to the grocery store where I noticed a woman staring me down with the dirtiest look. I didn't recognize her from my neighborhood or the gym, so I was fairly certain I'd never met her before. Did I grab the last package of yummy looking strawberries? Did I remind her of someone she disliked? Is she a blog reader who hates me?
I couldn't figure it out, so I tried to forget about it. Then the light bulb went off.
She was giving my belly a dirty look because it's something she wants, but can't have. At least, that's my best guess. Seeing how I used to do that to others.
I hate that something that I love- my pregnant body- reminds other women of their failures. Seriously, I hate this. Looking pregnant makes me feel reassured and confident, but it likely does the opposite to so many people.
Obviously, I can't fix this conundrum. I'm going to get bigger, and there's no way for me to hide it.
Situations like this remind me that even if I get my miracle in 15 weeks, I'll never forget the pain of infertility. Likewise, I'll never stop thinking about and praying for my infertile friends.
Once I got pregnant, some people told me I could leave infertility behind now. (Which was very premature since you don't become an infertility success story until you give birth to a healthy baby.)
I don't know how I could ever forget what I went through. The inability to get my period even with fertility drugs, the awkwardness of waiting in the dark for the fertility clinic to open with a dozen other women, the dwindling bank account, the jealously, guilt, and the fear that I'd never be a mom.
Infertility will always be a part of me no matter how many children I have. I know my growing belly and things I say will continue to hurt people, even though that's not my intention. The bottom line is, infertility sucks and I hate that anyone has to go through this.