Post Script

After my last post, I found myself wondering (a lot) why I choose to follow so many blogs of women who are pregnant or actively trying. Why it is easy for me to cheer happily and whole-heartedly for them, and why it has been far more difficult where my friend is concerned. And I realized that before I had even formulated the question, I knew the answer. 

As I read people's journeys on their blogs, I cheer. I always cheer. I always want them to see the positive pee stick, to get the rising beta and the healthy baby at the end. And of course, I want that for my IRL friends too. It's just not as easy to control the flow of information with them. It's not just theoretical that they are pregnant. It's not just a vague notion. It's real. It's watching their belly grow in person every week, even when I've had an emotionally draining day. It's hearing about their pregnancy regularly, even when the details are couched delicately. And most of all, it's the realization that I will soon be confronted by an actual baby at most of our gatherings, whether I can handle it that day or not.

Where blogs are concerned, it's kind of like tv... I decide if I want to (or can) "watch" that channel today. I control the flow of information. It's one step removed from my immediate reality. It's kind of "through the looking glass." Sadly, human nature makes it so much easier to cheer for the heroine, in the show, than my friend. Particularly because my friend, seemingly, has won the brass ring, easily and without much effort.  (In a good movie, a heartbreaking act two struggle always makes a triumphant ending more satisfying, right?) Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't wish it any other way for her.

I knew this day would come and I had visions of handling it with grace (which I hope I have done well IRL so far) and without tears (which, although only in private, I have not done well at all.) In fact, I started trying for my second very early (if I hadn't miscarried, my children would have been less than 20 months apart) to head this off at the pass. To know, even if I failed, that I had tried. So that I could feel ok when all my close mommy friends (our children are all the exact same age) started to announce that they were pregnant with their second.

Well, it didn't work. Today I'm raising the white flag IRL, and huddling in a dark corner with my laptop and my blogs. Deciding, with care, which channel I should/can/will "watch" until I feel I can face cries of bella bands again.