I Survived Skyping

This weekend, I survived Skyping with my family while my sister-in-law opened her baby shower gifts from Huzzy and me (to know the back story on why her pregnancy is extra tough on me, read I’m [Not] Pregnant).

I survived.

I didn’t cry.

I even smiled and I truly meant it. Even though it was difficult when my cousin’s 7-year-old kept asking me, “Did you know there’s A BABY in her stomach?”

Even when SIL said, “Wifey, (cousin’s kid) told me I’m fat!”  Uh… my response was, “You are supposed to be, you are pregnant.”  I probably should have told her she wasn’t fat, she was pregnant, but I was just trying to keep a smile on my face and not let them know how much I was hurting inside.

Babies are everywhere around me and in the last week, I’ve found out there is going to be even more coming. A few people close to me told me they were pregnant. I’m so happy for each of them, truly. It’s such an exciting time.

But I’m starting to feel like I have no “safe” zone. Twitter has become full of people who used to be struggling with me and now has mostly people who have children, whether that’s from infertility treatments, surrogates, adoption, etc. And I don’t want to find more infertility friends on Twitter because… that’s just that many more people to announce pregnancies. And I don’t want to abandon the people I’m already on Twitter with… some of them I consider true friends. I’m still on my Twitter break and I don’t think I’ll be back until at least next month.

And Facebook? Heck, I doubt I have more than a handful of people who don’t have kids. I posted a small rant on the local MilSpouse infertility support group and an INFERTILE (who has a baby, I might add) told me that “when it’s your time, you’ll have one.”  Um….. I know PLENTY of people who never got “their time” and since nothing but biological children are ok with my husband, that doesn’t leave us any other options. How can someone say that? YOU DON’T KNOW THE FUTURE, so don’t tell someone you are sure something’s going to happen.

And this doesn’t just apply to having kids/infertility… please don’t tell anyone you are “sure” something is going to happen when they are facing something difficult. Because you don’t know. You can sure express hope and offer prayers/good thoughts/etc, but don’t say you are SURE something will work, or even that it will “when it’s meant to be.”

Anyway, I’m currently in New Jersey to get certified as a Leadership Practices Inventory Coach. I’m hoping that this will help me with my career in the future. But can I say… brrr! Joisey is cold! Washington was a sunny 65 today and when I arrived, it was barely 34 degrees here on the East Coast. On top of that, everything is still brown and dead-looking. No thank you… give me back my gorgeous, green Pacific Northwest.

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5 thoughts on “I Survived Skyping

  1. Sorry lady. I know this sucks, sure wish this shitty IF horse SHIT crap didn’t even exist. It’s downright ridiculous with the military traditional lifestyle thrown into the mix. Preggers everywhere all the time! And they are all younger than I am with at least 3 kids. Neat.

    I love the NW too…CdA Idaho and Portland Oregon to be exact…we are going home for a week this summer finally away from this high desert base 🙂

  2. I am sorry for the erosion of your safe space. You deserve to have outlets where you don’t have to worry about people — however inadvertently — pouring lemon juice on a thousand paper cuts.

  3. Hi there, I’m so sorry to hear that you’re going through this. I am infertile-ish, but we do not want to have children. However, lots of my friends went through infertility challenges and had the sane feelings as you. You are not alone! If you would like a new non-pregnant friend in Twitter, you can find me at NLPilotsWife 🙂

  4. I hate that you don’t have feel like you have that safe space any more, but I’m glad you were able to recognize that you needed space rather then forcing yourself to do and be something that you can’t be..only making it worse on yourself. you do not need to put yourself through that.

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