This morning I went to see my esthetician, who is maybe two years older than I am, just celebrated her first wedding anniversary, and isn’t even thinking about having babies yet, because her business is her baby right now. As she shaped my eyebrows, she told me about the trip she’d taken to see some old college friends a few weeks ago.
“A lot of my friends just had babies, and – have you ever seen someone breast-feeding? It’s just so strange to think that we become milk-producing mammals. And the nipples?” She held her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “They’re like this long!”
“I read some of your blog,” she went on, “and even outside of what happened to you, I think it’s really great what you’re doing.”
“Waiting?” I asked.
“Waiting, trying to make a point to enjoy your life before you start a family. I think other women could really benefit from stepping back to really think about things like you’re doing. Starting a family is a huge decision. I mean, it changes everything. And some of my friends, they’re all natural about it. They did full-body cleanses before their pregnancies, they plan on breast-feeding for at least a year – they don’t believe in the formula stuff. It becomes your whole life. Especially if you’re breast-feeding; you can’t leave your baby alone for very long.”
She sent me off with a hug and her best wishes for the vacation I’m about to take (to Texas and Virginia; we leave on Saturday), and I went to work feeling pretty good.
When I got home just now, I started checking my email and my facebook page, and – remember how I said that for every pregnant woman who gives birth, three more pop up to take her place? There they were: an 8-week ultrasound photo from another one of my choir friends, and a post from one of my friends from Seattle saying, “There’s nothing like seeing your baby’s heartbeat on the ultrasound monitor for the first time.”
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
I just want this not to hurt anymore.
And that’s all I have to say for tonight.