You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
– Khalil Gibran
I have to go to a Christening tomorrow and truth be told I don’t want to go. I really, really don’t want to go. Usually whenever I face a Christening, Baby Shower or kiddies birthday party, I put on a smile and hide my pain. I think I’m deeply tired of the act.
I don’t think the fertiles realise how hard this is.
The last time I visited Toys R Us with my husband to buy my nephew a gift, he left emotional and I left numb. We are truly feeling the pain of this together now. Seeing his pain makes me hate myself for not being able to give him (so far.. in the ten years we’ve been together) a child of his own.
The fertiles won’t realise that as I smile and talk about their babies, I’ll be watching my husband and grief will without a doubt strike me.
I have to act strong for them so I don’t offend and so that I’m a good friend. But right now I need them to be good friends. I need them to feel my pain and to put themselves in my shoes.
A week ago I was asked to take photos for this Christening, I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint and say no. Shouldn’t I take it as an honour to be involved? Prior to the request, I was very close to saying ‘I don’t think I can come.’
Ok.. wait.. penny just dropped..
I think I love this friend now.
I once said to her ‘Your babyshower was fine because I was involved in organising it and that kept me too busy to think about my own pain.’
She’s trying to involve me by asking me to take pictures.
That means she acknowledges that this isn’t easy.
That also means my photography is probably crap.
She’s a good friend….
But I still don’t want to go.
The more I pinpoint this feeling, the more I realise it’s not about her and her gorgeous children. It’s about being surrounded by friends with their children and forced into conversations that focus on their children.
I always got by thinking ‘maybe this time next year I’ll have my baby sitting on my hip.’
Hours turned into days, days into nights, nights into months, months into years..
and this nightmare doesn’t seem to have an end.
I try not to look back but the bitterness is still on the tip of my tongue.