Long Story Part 4

My appointment that got me a tentative surgery schedule for the coming week was on Friday.  The nurse who schedules these surgeries were supposed to call me that day but she didn’t.  And of course they don’t work on weekends so I had to wait until Monday to find out if my surgery was indeed scheduled.

That weekend, we had DH’s family over for some bbq.  DH loves steak, although if you look at him, he does not look like a person who enjoys any kind of food.  He struggles to gain weight.  Yup, you read that right, GAIN.  A post on that later.

Anyway, we had his parents, his sister, and her husband over.  They also have a dog so she was over, playing with ours.  We were chitchatting in our kitchen when my SIL says… ‘So, we have some news.  We’re pregnant!’

Believe it or not, by some miracle, we have not had any close friends or family, emphasis on close, DH’s or mine, announce pregnancies during the few months we started the IF journey.  I can not, even to this day, explain the emotions the moment I heard the news.

See, she and I have a lot of things in common.  She got married in 2010.  We got married a year and half later in 2012.  She’s only 4 months older than I am.  My hubby traveled for work.  So did hers.  In fact, they worked for the same company.  We talked about raising a family during a ski trip a couple years ago and she and I were on the same page: that we wouldn’t want to start a family until our husbands stopped traveling and found a more stable job. DH quit his job and found a job where he wouldn’t need to travel every week just last year.   That’s when we seriously started trying.  Her husband quit his job just a couple months ago and found a new local job.  So silly me, I didn’t think they were trying.

She was 12 weeks in.  Her due date is March.  She even knows the name of the baby if it were a girl.  I smiled through our conversation, congratulated them, talked about clothing brands that carry maternity clothes.  I thought I did a good job.  Then, I went outside to see how DH was doing with his steak on the grill.. he hugged me, and I fell apart.  I cried in his arms for a few minutes.  I cried a lot.  I had cried a couple times before that but not this much.  I had promised myself that I wouldn’t cry through this IF journey.  I promised I would be strong.  I wasn’t strong enough to handle this.

Don’t get me wrong, I really really like my SIL.  We get along very well.  Our families have dinner /lunch/bbq together quite often.  My in laws live 5 minutes away.  SIL lives 20 minutes away. I talk to her more often than DH does.  That all changed the moment she announced her news.

The next morning, during church, I got an email from her.  Apologizing if her news upset me and that she didn’t know what I was going through.  Offered to talk whenever I wanted to.  It was very sweet of her.  But I cried reading that email.  Cried during the service, cried on the way home, cried a bit more after we got home.  It took me more than an hour to write up a 4 sentence reply to her email.  I didn’t know what to say.  I think I wrote something like ‘I’m happy for you, it wasn’t your news that was upsetting…’  What was upsetting was that while she plans out her pregnancy, impending baby and growing her family, I was about to go into surgery in a few days.  It couldn’t have been the worse timing.  But of course I couldn’t say that to her.

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