Oh my God. It's going to start all over again.
I had snapped off the light and was staring off into the darkness, willing myself toward sleep. I was thinking about how summer was winding down, school would be starting back up soon and a good friend would deliver her first child next month. Wait, next month?! I quickly did the math. In less than 4 weeks, she will bring home her baby.
And then it hit me, like a truck carrying a ton of bricks and towing a steamroller. It's going to start all over again. All of the friends who have stepped up, an average of one friend every five to six weeks (not that I'm counting), since this past January to tell me they're pregnant...they're going to deliver their babies.
Fuuuuuuuck. Why hadn't this occurred to me sooner? I stared at the ceiling, wide awake now, pondering.
Amy, Kelly, Angie, Kim, Kristen, Julie, Johanna. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Seven bumps in a pretty little row. All pregnant.
Jacki Jaguar. Not.
I guess I was so wrapped up in processing all of the pregnancies around me that I kind of forgot that, in 40 weeks, they would all actually have babies, like real, live, crying, sleeping, cooing babies. I mean, don't get me wrong. That's good for them. I wouldn't wish it any other way. It's just that they're going to actually have their babies.
Hmm. I'm not gonna lie. I'm not so impressed with this realization.
I'm going to have to meet babies, view baby photos sent to me in e-mails, congratulate new parents, watch other people congratulate them, watch people watch them while they gaze at their new infant and smile because it's all such a beautiful miracle.
And every five to six weeks, I'm going to have to do it all over again.
I have one good friend left who is not pregnant. She will start trying to conceive in November (if I don't jab her with Depo Provera before that). And if the majority of my other friends are any indication, she will have no problems and will be announcing her pregnancy within two months of beginning her endeavor. And frankly, that's how it should be, really. I don't want her to have to deal with any of this infertility bullsh!t. It's just that I don't want to deal with it either.
After that, if I'm not yet pregnant, I will officially be the last woman standing.
That's f#cking bullsh!t. Where's my goddamn beautiful miracle?
After reading this over, this would probably be a good time to mention that I think I found a counselor. We're playing phone tag right now, but if all goes well, I should meet with her on Friday. Hopefully, I will be returning to my regular, reasonably sunny, moderately nice self soon.