I’ve hesitated to write this post for a while because of my concern for who may be reading this site. Even on my personal blog I’ve always been careful not to call people out or talk about certain topics as I’d never want to offend or damage relationships. But since I was a kid, and even more so now, writing has been therapy for me. My family jokes that if you get a “letter” from Brandi, you know you’ve struck a nerve. Some people drink, some people talk about it, some people bake, I don’t know… I write. Being able to chronicle this experience was a major motivator in starting Baby or Bust, and while I don’t update as often as maybe I should, it’s like a good friend and I always know it’s here when I need it. Something has been eating at me and I need to visit my cyber shrink.

I thank all the people who wandered here from someplace on the Web and have found comfort in what I write. It’s incredibly flattering and, just when I think I’m talking into thin air, I get emails like the ones from Andrea and Heather tonight who remind me that maybe this might be a little bigger than my personal shrink session!

So, the point. I talk on here a lot about feelings of jealousy. I think it’s an emotion that any infertile woman has to become very familiar with. I’ve never been the jealous type. I’ll say I’m actually quite proud of myself for the way I’ve managed my feelings and emotions during the past two-plus years, as more and more people have babies. I haven’t become bitter or angry, I’ve accepted the situation for what it is and dealt with it the best way my husband and I know how. My random twinges of jealousy I would hope no one ever sees as I work through it on my own.

Someone rather close to us is having a baby soon. And as horrid as this is to say, this someone just isn’t ready. It’s not supposed to be their turn. It’s not supposed to happen this way. And yet, my “bigger” self is forced to slap on a smile and coo and ahh and make sweet baby small talk as we count down the weeks. For the first time, I was confronted with the baby bump this weekend. It made the situation all the more real and all the more painful. I have the hardest time being happy for them. It’s really the only time that bitter-Brandi has shown up and, again, I feel terrible saying this, but I almost feel justified. I don’t feel like apologizing for the way I feel. I don’t feel like I need or have to explain myself. And frankly I don’t want to.

I’ve sat in my bathtub alone and bawled just hoping maybe it would wash all of this away. When does that ever work? I’ve curled into my husband’s arms and cried some of the hardest cries my eyes can muster and just screamed out loud – and he is a constant source of unwavering support. I’m disappointed and hurt and sad. Everyone is celebrating, picking out names, registering for gifts and doing all the things that expecting parents do. I can barely look them in the eye or be in the same room, much less cheer on sonogram stories and frilly baby blankets.

Oh whoa is me, I’m being a big whiner. I’m not a fan of whining, but here I sit wallowing in a big pile of pity and whine. Wish it were more like cheese and wine. It’s an incredibly strange position I find myself in because I in no way want to cause damage to this very special relationship, but at the same time, I don’t know how to be the support and positivity that they need. I feel that without saying, they know how I feel. Yet, I have to wonder if they’ve ever even considered it. They didn’t do this “to” me.

I know this post is like some twisted, vague maze. I wish I could talk more specifically just so that it makes sense. Anyone who knows me well at all knows that I don’t dance around many issues. I cut to the chase, tell it like it is and sometimes people don’t like what I have to say. My husband has been a good, or bad, influence, depending on how you look at it, and during the past 7-ish years together he’s taught me to not say everything I’m thinking outloud. I feel a little better in that I’ve said my peace… for now. If certain people are reading this and you’re not sure how to take this- know that I love you so much and hope that we can each put on our big-kid panties and talk about it.