Yesterday after my session in the library, I had drinks with a Grad School Friend whom I've grown very close to since the beginning of the year. She's the friend I took to the opera a few days after learning the m&m had died, and since she learned about the miscarriage she's been incredibly supportive. She is yet another Recently Trying Friend, but as she's 38 years old, I'll be much more okay with her getting pregnant first (plus she several cycles in now, so not another first-time-lucky friend to deal with).
I wound up telling Grad School Friend all about last weekend's pregnancy announcement from Girl Formerly Known As Recently Trying Friend-- whom I would call Recently Pregnant Friend, except that she's almost five months along, so that's not Recent at all, and she should really be called Clueless Preggo for being so clueless and so pregnant.
Where was I? Oh right, drinks and conversation last night.
Grad School Friend (who has done her time in the therapy trenches) had an interesting perspective on my situation with Clueless Preggo. She suggested that my desire to be the strong, competent, together friend who helps other people--the friend who listens to everyone else's relationship problems while she basks in the glow of her own drama-free decade-long union--my desire to always do the "right" thing in each situation, and my fear of being a big downer all the time has placed huge barriers to intimacy between me and some of my closest friends. It's true that I'm much more comfortable in the counselor role than the sad and needy role (unbelievable as that may seem to readers of this whine-fest). It's true that I have rarely brought up my anxiety and sadness and jealousy and all-around crappy feelings to my friends with babies since the miscarriage. I also had not spoken to Clueless Preggo about the above in months, so perhaps she is to be forgiven for not assuming her pregnancy announcement would hit me like a house falling on my head.
So Grad School Friend suggested a phone call to the Clueless Preggo in which I am (amazing as it may sound) honest. That I just tell her that I'm glad this has been easy for her, but I'm so sad for myself and hearing her news brought up a lot of painful feelings that were hard to deal with. That talking to her about her pregnancy is more than I can handle right now.
It seems so simple. Why would someone have a problem with those feelings? What sort of person would object to my struggling with grief and disappointment?
And yet the thought of making that phone call terrifies me, and I'm not sure why. I'm not sure what exactly scares me so much. I know I'm afraid that I'll push people away while I'm struggling and they won't be there anymore when I come out on the other end. I know I'm afraid that my friends will think I'm selfish or morbid or self-absorbed or fixated on my own problems. But the ultimate fear is even beyond that, and I'm still not sure what's at the root of it.
Any thoughts on what to do in this situation would be most appreciated, because I'm doubting everything I think and feel these days.
Reinvention of a blog
6 months ago