The dreaded announcement

The minute I saw her phone number on caller ID, my heart sank.

It was my friend AW. AW, who lives two hours away, rarely calls—not because she doesn’t care, but because she’s not a “phone talker.” So when she does call, I know it’s for a specific reason. And I knew she and her husband had been considering “pulling the goalie” recently. I was sure she was calling with a pregnancy announcement—and I didn’t know how I would be able to handle that. See, for us, it’s not just a matter of being excluded from the “club” anymore. We had already been allowed into the club, but then, just when we had relaxed enough to kick up our heels and enjoy our time by the pool, we were brutally kicked out.

So I tentatively chatted with her, all the while waiting for her to get to the point so I wouldn’t have to be in suspense anymore. But no pregnancy announcement. Finally, the reason for her call came out—she wanted to let us know that they plan on resuming their search for a new house closer to where we live (it’s a long story, but their earlier plans for a house fell through).

She did, however, reveal that they stopped using condoms a couple of days earlier. We ended up having a long conversation about how menstrual cycles work and what the best days to get pregnant are. I even admitted I’d been expecting a pregnancy announcement from her and she said she knows that telling me about a pregnancy will be a very, very hard phone call. It was refreshing to be so honest with her, and it was probably the longest conversation we’ve had about our loss since it happened. (That doesn’t mean she wasn’t supportive; she was the friend who called me unexpectedly on the morning before I was induced at the hospital. AW doesn’t call often, but she calls at the right times.)

No, this phone call wasn’t what I thought it would be. But oh, was it difficult not knowing. My SIL, too (not the one who’s due in March), is now trying to get pregnant with her second. I’ve decided that should I see their number on caller ID, I will let the call go to voice mail. I’ll be able to tell by my brother’s message if they’re making an announcement, and I’ll at least be able to compose myself before I call him back.

I know this is part of life. I know there will be many pregnancy announcements in my future. But somehow, I feel like it’s unfair for other people to get pregnant while I’m still “stuck.” You may think I’m naïve and overly optimistic, but I still harbor a not-so-secret hope that once Dr. Hot allows me to start treatment, Letrozole will work its magic and help me ovulate again and I’ll be pregnant within a few cycles. I feel like I’m in a race and everyone else has already started while my feet are still firmly planted on the start line.

Except. What if I start the race again only to find out that I’ve lost all the speed I had the first time I raced? It’s a definite possibility; I’ve seen it happen to many, many other bloggers.

Oy. So many thoughts swirling in my head. I need to get a life. Speaking of that, thank you so much for all your suggestions of dogs. I really don’t think M and I will go for a lab or a retriever—too big. But we will start visiting with some dogs this weekend and hopefully we’ll find one that’s right for us.