Down In the (Hillbilly) Dumps

I recently found out that a friend of a friend is pregnant. I was shocked because I really thought they were one of those couples who would never have kids. Not because they couldn’t have, but because we sort-of thought they didn’t really want to have any. When I heard via the grapevine that they are pregnant, that old familiar companion, my horrible hope-ometer kicked into full swing again. First the rush of jealousy that accompanies any pregnancy announcement. You know, the ‘One Standard Issue Jealousy Package. Simply Add One Pregnancy Announcement. Especially Enhanced with an Added Kick for the “It Wasn’t Planned” Anecdote. Guaranteed to Work Every Time.’ Then it’s the rush of disappointment that it’s not me. That I won’t get to have an unplanned pregnancy. Ever. Then it’s the rush of self-berating. Reminding myself that they have every right to have a family, regardless of whether or not I can. Or can’t. Whatever. Then it’s the “Well, I’m glad they don’t have to struggle like we do.” And then, it’s the wondering if they really appreciate the pregnancy… if they were genuinely happy to look at that pee-stick and see a double line. I’m not talking specifically about this couple that we just heard is pregnant, mind you. Just in general. And then I torture myself with thoughts about how big the baby is already, if they have felt it move yet, if they got to hear the baby’s heart beating at that first scan and realize what a miracle that really is… and if they appreciate how friggin lucky they are. And then I force myself to stop thinking about it. Because honestly, I can drive myself crazy thinking about it. Dwelling on it. Feeling anger and resentment. And killing my joy. But, that’s not how I want to live my life. So I decided not to. Instead I decided to be happy for them. And I genuinely am. I wanted to go shopping for them today and buy them an enormous bunch of flowers and lots of baby things and send it to them so they know we really are happy for them. My insecurities and stupidities and jealousies are almost always very short-lived. Thankfully. Because, really, there is so much for me to live for. I don’t need to be miserable because I can’t have children. We have a fantastic new life here in the bush. Where I wake up to the sounds of cows moo-ing and chickens cluck-clucking. And birds chirping. Honestly, the only thing that could make me happier here in our little hellhole Hillbilly Dump would be to hear the sounds of my babies’ laughter. And that’s not far off either. One day, we’ll have our ducks in a row for the surrogacy… one day. And then, watch out cows and chickens – you’ll be in for some competition on the Hillbilly Dump!!!