Fackebook (& other forms of social media): it brings you together & it tears you apart. i’m as guilty-probably even more so-than anyone else with a raging Facebook obsession. it should probably be in DSM in by now, it is 2015 after all. we log on, we scroll through our daily, “newspaper,” as my grandmother calls it, & we think. sometimes, when scrolling through posts, we feel incredibly happy for our friends…& then there are those other times. for the past year now, i’ve had many more of those times. after having a miscarriage, i can’t help but cringe at every pregnancy announcement…every baby debut….&, above all else, women complaining about their pregnancy. i’m sorry, it must be really uncomfortable for you to get pregnant naturally then bitch about it while i go through painful procedure after procedure, break my sex life with my husband down to a strict science (did i mention i’m not good at science??), & make myself reminder after reminder to fill clomid &/or call my fertility doctor as soon as i start my period so he can schedule more test. it must be extremely difficult for you to be burdened with what i am putting myself through, which is extremely agonizing btw, to obtain. did i mention this extreme agony doesn’t even come with a guarantee?
two of my best friends are among these people. don’t get me wrong, i love them more than anything in this world. they are & always will be one of my greatest blessings in this life. at the same time, they also happen to be two of the people i have to hear overrrrr & overrrrr again complaining about their pregnancy. did i mention one is due with her baby at the exact time my baby was suppose to be due last year?
Yeah….so, hearing about the, “travesties,” of your mild discomfort in relation to the thing i want more than anything else is not something, in the words of Crazy Eyes, i am interested in…
“Not. One. Bit.”