I got some of the best news of my life last week. No, Im not pregnant, but this is a close second – my brother and his wife are! I can’t tell you how excited I am, how badly I’ve wanted this, and how obnoxiously I’ve been nagging them to hurry up and give Toby a little cousin to play with.
My brother and I are extraordinarily close and a pregnancy of his is nearly as exciting as a pregnancy of mine (nearly…!). And it’s for that reason that I was consumed with disappointment in myself for allowing, amidst the elation, that too familiar feeling of jealousy and resentment creep in when I learned of their easy conception that occurred the month before they’d planned to actively start trying. A surprise. It’s not like I would want anything less for them. My feelings are ridiculous. I wouldn’t want my brother and his wife to feel the disappointment of even one failed cycle, let alone the burden of infertility. I am thrilled for them that it happened with such ease – elated, in fact.
Even though my negative emotions were whisked away in moments, it saddens me that they surfaced. They make me angry and ashamed. Infertility has obviously had such an overwhelming effect on me; one that I have had the luxury of ignoring and almost forgetting about over this past year. Unfortunately, I am reminded that the pain of infertility will always be a part of me.
But, gosh, what a joy it will be the moment I am able to hold my little niece or nephew in my arms! I simply cannot wait.