When Out of A Doorway the Tentacles Stretch
I need someone to talk me out of being a jerk. We have a group of friends up here who are all Gray's childhood friends, so I inherited them as friends when we got married and then their wives as friends when they got married. And they're all pretty good friendships, like I go out with them sometimes without Gray and everybody gets along. There are four couples, five counting us. Four out of the five couples have kids - two have one, two have two, so half have already had a second child. The fifth couple doesn't have kids and they've been trying since the second they got married three years ago. Everybody in the group knows about their infertility issue and is sensitive about it, unlike one of their other friend-couples who got pregnant just by looking at each other on their wedding night and likes to tell the story of how freaked out they were over and over as the wife pats her round belly. So we're all mindful. When I found out I was pregnant I told the husband separately and asked him how to tell his wife, my friend, about it, and he goes, "Don't do it, I'll do it, and I'm so glad you came to me first." She's been known to avoid kids parties, and I'd heard that she cries when she finds out other people are pregnant. On the flipside, they've hosted a bunch of shindigs at their house since we've moved here and everybody's kids are always there and she seems to be fine.
So I kind of waited for her to send me an email saying hi and congratulations or something vaguely acknowledging, but after a month of silence I asked him if he'd told her and he said yes, so I know at least that she knows.
But now that two and a half months have passed and I haven't heard from her and she keeps ducking out of all the things that the whole group does together (last weekend big picnic, she didn't go and was "at home relaxing") I started to get mad. I didn't want to feel it and I felt like an a-hole for feeling it, but couldn't stop. To another friend in the group I said I was bummed that she seemed to be staying away from things because of me and my belly, and this friend said, "I might do the same thing. I wanted kids so bad and if I couldn't have them I'd probably need to be as far away from visual reminders as possible."
I'm still feeling mad. I'm feeling like if she can't say congratulations to me and be around me, when she knows I'm not going to talk about baby stuff and will 100% have her feelings in mind when she's in front of me, then we aren't really friends. And after the picnic I heard her husband invite one of the other friend-couples back to their house for dinner. But not us, and in the past we definitely would have been invited too.
Maybe this is all non-sympathetic whining on my part. It's just that even when we had a hard time getting pregnant the first time (granted, 10 months is not 3 years, but it felt like a longgg time) I never begrudged anyone their joy and never avoided them and would never have not said congratulations or made them feel bad for what's such a happy time.
I'm pretty sure that I'm not being understanding enough. But I'm also pretty sure that if this continues for the next 3 months I don't think I can be friends with her in the future. If anybody's got infertility experience and you think I'm being a jerk, let me have it.
Prepare For the Best and the Fastest Ride
May miracles never cease -- I just set up a new mail account on my Mac and it worked. Lately things aren't so easy on the easy Macintosh, so I feel like I should get a trophy or a plate of cake or something.
After I wrote the last entry, we hired our babysitter and went out for dinner (Macaroni Grill, fattening and delicious) and to a movie (Observe and Report, stupid and lame) and the baby was still alive when we got home. Dang, it's hard to trust other people. Maybe when he's older we'll feel more secure about him staying with a sitter because he'll be able to tell us if they stick him in a dark closet or feed him beers, but for now it's nervewracking. And yet it was so nervewracking that we did it again two weeks after the first time, when we went to dinner (Carl's Jr., because we ran out of time) and saw a movie (Star Trek, pretty good overall) and had a nice time. Dates are good, I guess. But how important are they, really? When we were on them all we did was talk about Gray's lack of job and the baby back at home, so it's not like it was especially unique or revitalizing or anything.
The latest is the whole preschool issue. I always laughed at waiting list preschool people, but now we're some of them because there aren't enough to go around in our area. I'm also thinking about putting him in daycare (which is more like pre-pre-school) for two mornings a week before the new baby comes (3.5 months away) and this preschool business is all anybody wants to talk about in the mother's club. It's preschool. I don't think that the place we choose will determine the course of his life like some people seem to. All I remember of mine is that we sang Frere Jacques and played in the sand, so really. How much should I stress about it?
Because I have a father who grew up during the Depression (he's 81, whereas Gray's dad is 63 for comparison), all that save and don't spend stuff was fully ingrained in me and still sticks with me even though I've tried to to be a good American and spend some money once in awhile. So what do I do the second Gray gets laid off? I start selling stuff on ebay in order to hoard money. And it's been awhile since I've done it, and I've forgotten what a pain in the ass it is. I sold six things, and only three people have paid, and two of them are foreigners (Germany, Australia) who have picked whatever random amount they felt like to pay me for shipping to their far-off land, which will probably be too low. Somebody else wants a tracking number for a $5 item, and it's just such a pain. Nobody behaves normally there. Stupid ebay.
So Facebook always reveals funny things, and the funniest thing lately is that I'm friends with an old boyfriend (who has gotten really fat) and someone wrote on his wall: "I see you got married to X. Are you guys still together?" Normally a pretty rude thing to write, right? But fitting for a (formerly, at least) wandering cheater such as he.
On pregnancy: I am really obese and uncomfortable and still have a long way to go. Nothing fits, my boobs are huge and uncomfortable, I keep worrying that my belly fat is peeking out from under my shirt, and I get winded when I climb stairs. Man, the injustice. At least I don't have gestational diabetes, but I have to drink a grose iron drink because I'm anemic. All of the babies I cook in my belly like to sap me of iron. This one did, too.