It's one of those days where the passage of time hit me hard across the face.
Just about a year ago, this happened:
Then today, I had lunch with a wonderful friend who was visiting from out of town. I haven't seen her since before she got married in July. Turns out she is expecting a honeymoon baby, due in May. She and her husband are living in her hometown and just bought what sounds like a dream "starter" house. As I was listening to her, I felt the now-familiar green creep of jealousy working its way up from my heart. I'm so happy for her, truly, but between us, I had to walk back to work awfully slowly to quell the sobs that came right on cue.
A year later, still no baby for me. Still no motherhood.
I remembered that event (probably will for a while, I think) because it happened right around Mr. M's birthday, which is the end of January. In fact, last year CD1 came on his birthday. (Thanks, AF.) This year thankfully that didn't happen.
And I threw him a pretty amazing Hobbit-themed party!! (if I say so myself...)
But still. A whole year. Anniversaries are hard! I can easily think of a dozen people who got pregnant or had a baby over the last twelve months, and I'm still not on that list. My friend's baby (above) is probably not even looking like a newborn any more. Life moves on, women get pregnant, families grow. At least other women, other people's families. For me, life just seems to move on.
I think it gets easier, a little any way. No, harder. No, both. But I'm grateful for the "easier" of being less shocked by pg announcements, of being more "okay" with my childlessness (in the sense of not feeling embarrassed or shamed somehow or "less-than.") But the hard - the missing my children who don't exist - is pretty darn hard. And it's pretty awfully lonely as so many others move into the parenting stage of life.
Sorry this is so depressing. Sometimes it just hits you.