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Middle-of-the-Night Memories


a blog by joy

      - Jim and I were in Mexico with our best friends. They brought their son, who was about 1 ½ years old. Another couple joined us with their little boy. I spent the first half of the trip sulking while Jim surfed. I could not stand to be the only woman without a child. I hated how my friends went in and out of different rooms grabbing diapers and warming bottles. They were so busy, so purposeful. What purpose did I have? Comedic relief? They kept telling me how lucky I was to be on vacation — that chasing after the boys was not relaxing. I bristled. Don’t talk to me about luck, I thought.

      - The time my business partner saw a photo on my laptop — the one of me holding my first positive pregnancy test (years ago), naively smiling for the camera. I was nervous to tell her that I was pregnant. I didn’t want her to think I didn’t take work seriously. That was my biggest worry.

      - When I visited my friend at her workplace just to tell her that I wasn’t pregnant. I had only been trying for two months. I cried in her office and she consoled me. She was pregnant herself. I had the sense that I was paying my dues somehow. It felt so bad right then, something good must be right around the corner.

    I’m not sure why these memories have returned. All I know is that they still sting.

    I am embarrassed for my behavior. But most of all, I know that I am no less used to the idea that I have no control, that I’ll never really know what’s around the corner.

    Good or bad.

    I hope I can look back on this pregnancy with fondness and good memories.

    I am trying to savor this time. It gets a little easier each day . . .

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