Oh No She Di' int

We went to the wedding of one of my very good friends from b-school and his darling bride on Saturday. It was a mini-reunion of sorts, as he is the kind of person who stayed in touch with a good many of our classmates. I, for one, was ready to celebrate.

Hair done up, channeling Audrey as Holly in the famous movie featuring an equally famous jewelry store, I was determined to make this a night of happiness. I feel so full of sadness and disappointment lately. I didn’t want to bring my baggage into the wonderful night of a lovely couple and their lovely ceremony. I was so over myself.

The wedding was a bit modern with a cocktail reception pre-func before exchanging vows. My second good friend in our triumvirate gal pals was there, too. She started TTC in July. In fact, I gave her my copy of How to Get Pregnant Fast (Naturally) a few months ago thinking I was being so helpful and all.

I haven’t seen her since a coffee date in July when she announced that she was, at that very moment, ovulating and that they had done the deed three days in a row. Ick.

I froze then and I froze again last night when she was freaking sipping on water at the cocktail reception.

My pregnancy radar went off.

Her excuse was that she didn’t want to drink while they were still trying. I get that. I didn’t drink for months when we first started TTC. I told her was sorry that it didn’t work out for her this time and by the look on her face after I made the comment, I just knew.

I get it. It is your pregnancy. Own it. Don’t let others force you to take it in a direction you aren’t ready to go. Like telling someone you are pregnant in the middle of a wedding reception filled with dozens of classmates.

So I would have left it at that. But then she had to say that she was “a little bit past the two week wait and I’ll leave it at that.” And if she has any announcements to make, she will be ready to do so when we have lunch at the third friend’s house in early October.

I went numb.

So much for my glorious night.

It wasn’t so much that I am bummed she is pregnant. I was just so hurt that she wanted me to play a part in her fantasy pregnancy announcement to her dearest friends. Over an intimate lunch. Just the three of us. And the other friend’s new baby. And the stupid smile plastered on my face hiding the bitter lump in my throat.

What disturbs me, too, is that this is the friend with whom I have shared some of my deepest, saddest thoughts with after both of my miscarriages. She’s been there for me. I should be happy for her. What’s wrong with me? I wouldn’t wish infertility on anyone, but why can’t I get it out of my brain that this is so not fair. Why can’t I be the one blessed with a baby? Why is it easy for virtually everyone around me? Just not me.

She says she has prayed for me and thinks of me often. And I believe her. But if she thinks I am going to be party to a public announcement after which I will wind up sobbing in my car on the way home, then once again, I’ve been let down by yet another friend who claims to understand what I am going through. But who very clearly doesn’t.

I HATE what not being able to have a baby has done to me. I absolutely hate the mixture of emotions that course through my soul at this moment. I can barely write this without seething at myself.

Then I detach. I go through the motions. I smile brightly through the wedding reception. I give her a hug. But I can barely look her in the eye. And I hate myself for that, too.

I have never been so thankful that I splurged on an up do for the occasion because at least I had fantastic looking hair that night.

The next day Cowboy asks me if I am upset. I lie and say no. Later on, he asks me if her husband is going to quit his job and stay home to take care of the baby. I say I don’t know.

The sad thing is that she is my friend but I don’t care to know. Because I just can’t care right now.

I’m afraid of the thoughts I might uncover if I think about it too much.