Got a call from my brother tonight. GUESS WHAT???
He's pregnant. Well, not him, obviously. They're pregnant.
I screamed with excitement appropriately. They are 12 weeks. He is so excited the cousins will be only about 6 weeks apart. Well, 9 weeks, since they're twins.
I hang up the phone and burst into tears. Why am I this way????????? Why can't I just be happy for them?
It's because it's all so easy for them, for seemingly everyone else. (Well, of course I know not "everyone" - this IF community proves that) but you know what I mean. Everyone in real life. He just finished with grad school, and boom pregnant! How awesome to *pick* the timing so well. How lovely that it falls into place just when *you* want it. How jealous I am that you don't know the heartbreak I've had to deal with.
Not that I want them to have heartbreak, so I don't know what my problem is. I'm just jealous that no one else has to deal with the things I do. And that she gets to experience pregnancy, with no issues, all the way through it. Something I will never get to do.
But I get babies, right? At least I get babies.
Or so I hope. I really hope this isn't like last year, where I was pregnant, then everyone else got pregnant, then I lost the babies and everyone else continued on just fine and now they all have babies and I don't.
And that's my big fear. If I knew 100% I'd be coming home with babies, this wouldn't bother me at all. It's the fear that something will again happen and I'll have nothing, after all that we've been through, that makes me this bitter infertile.
B-I-T-T-E-R. And I love my brother, I swear. Sometimes I hate myself.