They’re questions I used to pop pretty casually.
“So when will that baby be on the way?”
“Getting pregnant soon?”
“So when are you guys having another baby?”
And now, after being on the receiving end of question number three a few too many times, I realize that these are questions I’ll never be asking again.
When a couple has suffered a miscarriage (or several) or is having trouble getting pregnant, the questions are like little daggers. So I’ve realized it isn’t my place to ask them. I know now how uncomfortable it feels when someone in the office remarks “time to get crackin’ on number two”. And as much as I want to respond, and say “WHY YES, I’D LOVE TO GET CRACKIN’ ON NUMBER TWO…JUST AS SOON AS MY BODY DECIDES TO YA KNOW, DROP AN EGG AFTER MY MISCARRIAGE,” I don’t. I just quietly say, “yep” and avoid the subject.
The countless baby announcements on Facebook are hard enough. I can’t even number how many pregnancies I’ve seen announced since my miscarriage four months ago. Each one is painful. Each one a reminder that I should also be thrilled that I’m 12 weeks along or having a gender reveal. And while the facebook announcements hurt, I deal with them. For all I know these women have also faced struggles that they just don’t talk about.
As a young mom, I’m always eager for more friends to join me on the mommy train. It’s fun to have girls to trade stories with about blow outs and late night wakings. But my miscarriages have allowed me to appreciate that my friends may want more than anything to be trading those stories with me, and their bodies won’t allow them to experience motherhood.
So the next time I get the urge to ask “so when will baby be on the way?”, Ill be biting my tongue, and discussing fun vacation plans instead. My friends deserve to avoid those awkward moments that I’ve been encountering far too frequently.