I knew it was coming. A church-friend announced her pregnancy on FB a few weeks ago and I knew I'd see her soon. (Thanks to my travel schedule and our move last week I had a few weeks to let it sink in).
This is someone I am genuinely happy for and were the announcement made in any other way, I'd have been running over to congratulate her instead of waiting for her to come to me. She had a miscarriage a couple of years ago and then I reached out to her last fall because I just suspected. We had a nice conversation over tea and I've been praying for her very specifically ever since.
She had surgery to remove a couple polyps just a couple of weeks after I had my surgery. We offered each other private messages of prayers and encouragement on FB before and after. I figured it was just a matter of time for her.
And then came the announcement. On Facebook. Publicly. With no warning, no direct message, no acknowledgement. Nothing.
And it hurt. A lot.
We aren't super close friends, so I don't know why I expected anything different. I don't know why I feel like I had a right to private message. And maybe that's just it - I expected too much and I have no right to anything in regards to how someone else announces a pregnancy.
I hate myself for being less-than-excited for her. For letting something so seemingly small affect my reactions. Yet, when I tell myself all of the things that are probably true - she was just too excited for answered prayers, she didn't know what to say or do, etc. - it really doesn't help.
I know it doesn't help that the BrB has been hanging around for a few days and that AF is on her way. (There is definitely no hope of a BFP this month - you actually have to, you know, have se.x for that to be possible. And apparently packing up all of your belongings during the fertile time only results in 2 exhausted people who collapse into bed and play rock-paper-scissors for has to get back up to put the dogs in their kennels.) While there is no hope - disappointment cycle to experience there is a missed opportunity. And in the past when there was no chance the cycle was actually a bit healing, a chance to take a breather and get back on the horse. Not this time. It is a glaring missed opportunity and a huge question of what might have been. But oh yes, there is all of the irregular bleeding, so who am I kidding?
So I know all of this. And yet it took every. single. ounce. of strength not to cry during mass or when I hugged her and offered my congratulations.
I hate IF. I hate it with every. single. fiber. of my being.