Ghosts from the Archives

8 Feb

I found this post in my abandoned drafts, dated January 3, 2009. It doesn’t go anywhere. It drops off mid sentence. Feeling grateful for being a different place, a happy and fulfilled place, one year later. I write a lot of these posts. Most of them get deleted and are never published. But since this one managed to hang in the archives for over a year, I figured this might be the one time I’ll feel the fear and do it any way.

Anniversaries
January 9, 2009

Conception Day came and went this year. There was no acknowledgement. The magical new anniversary vanished after one year. That’s the thing about anniversaries. They are as much reminders of events that have passed, as they are monuments to moments in time we can never get back.

I don’t have any clear thoughts about it. I am surrounded right now, or so it seems, by women having their second and third babies. I don’t have a word for how I feel about it, really. Except perhaps, detached. I think, “How nice for her. I hope she enjoys it.”

It. The pregnancy. The birth. The Aftermath.

I am not envious. At least envy is not the emotion I recognize. It’s sort of like watching Oprah’s Favorite Things episodes. For an hour you watch people experience orgasmic joy as they are showered with plasma televisions and cashmere dog beds. And sometimes you cry tears of empathetic joy. And sometimes you shake your head and think, “A seven day cruise, too? I think those 700-thread count sheets were quite enough, Oprah.”

It just feels like too much, watching a woman get more than one chance at this. Even Angelina Jolie with her twin births on top of adoptions on top of births. As though having another child is as easy as breathing to her. No method of acquiring them is too difficult.

And now I’m regretting this post, which is quickly spiraling into snark. People I love and care about are pregnant or have just given birth. Sometimes they read what I write here. If that’s you, I don’t want you to have the impression that I am unhappy for you. I’d tell you how I feel, but I don’t have words. I want nothing but magic for you. I want you to be filled with wonder and amazement at the work your body is doing

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