I was in dire need of some emergency therapy yesterday, and my first thought was to reach out to my closest, far-away, friends. So thank you again, lovelies, for your kind words and support. And for validating my emotions, which I didn't actually feel I had the right to have.
Sven's niece, the one who stayed with us a while back, is pregnant.
I did not take this news well.
It's really difficult to explain this feeling, because it makes me sound like I am become one of those dried-up, bitter, old women who take other people's pregnancies personally. Intellectually, I know that she is not taking anything from me. But I am overwhelmed with a sense of unfairness, both because it feels a bit like being overtaken on the inside when someone 16 years your junior is starting a family, and you are decidedly not, and also because she can barely take care of herself, and yet SHE gets to raise a child?!
It must be said that she is a very nurturing, giving, soul, and her baby will be very much loved. And there is no right or wrong time to have a kid, nobody gets to be the judge of that. And I hope her - relatively new - relationship will survive bringing a baby into the mix. Her boyfriend is so happy and excited about the prospect of becoming a dad, so there is that. It is unfortunate that she was - again - halfway through an education that she actually liked and cared about this time, and there is very little chance that she will finish that now.
And I have no right to feel anything but happy for her. Which I am, of course. And all of this has exactly nothing to do with me. But... I can already see it now: All the ladies in the family gathered, cooing and ahh'ing taking turns at holding the baby, me with this feeling in the pit of my stomach, and then my mother-in-law will turn to me and say: "Now, doesn't this just make you want to have one of your own?"
Like I'm willfully withholding a grandchild from her.
And there is literally nothing I can say to that that won't start up a barrage of questions, and the answers are none of anybody's business but mine and my husbands. So all I can do is show my teeth in something resembling a smile, and walk away. Because fuck you, world. Fuck you, family. I can't, and I won't, give you the charade of the covetous, little smile as I gaze lovingly at this new life and say "It sure does."
Fuck. You.
Sven's niece, the one who stayed with us a while back, is pregnant.
I did not take this news well.
It's really difficult to explain this feeling, because it makes me sound like I am become one of those dried-up, bitter, old women who take other people's pregnancies personally. Intellectually, I know that she is not taking anything from me. But I am overwhelmed with a sense of unfairness, both because it feels a bit like being overtaken on the inside when someone 16 years your junior is starting a family, and you are decidedly not, and also because she can barely take care of herself, and yet SHE gets to raise a child?!
It must be said that she is a very nurturing, giving, soul, and her baby will be very much loved. And there is no right or wrong time to have a kid, nobody gets to be the judge of that. And I hope her - relatively new - relationship will survive bringing a baby into the mix. Her boyfriend is so happy and excited about the prospect of becoming a dad, so there is that. It is unfortunate that she was - again - halfway through an education that she actually liked and cared about this time, and there is very little chance that she will finish that now.
And I have no right to feel anything but happy for her. Which I am, of course. And all of this has exactly nothing to do with me. But... I can already see it now: All the ladies in the family gathered, cooing and ahh'ing taking turns at holding the baby, me with this feeling in the pit of my stomach, and then my mother-in-law will turn to me and say: "Now, doesn't this just make you want to have one of your own?"
Like I'm willfully withholding a grandchild from her.
And there is literally nothing I can say to that that won't start up a barrage of questions, and the answers are none of anybody's business but mine and my husbands. So all I can do is show my teeth in something resembling a smile, and walk away. Because fuck you, world. Fuck you, family. I can't, and I won't, give you the charade of the covetous, little smile as I gaze lovingly at this new life and say "It sure does."
Fuck. You.