{"id":137,"date":"2016-08-14T23:32:43","date_gmt":"2016-08-14T23:32:43","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/hopemeetsjoy.com\/?p=137"},"modified":"2016-08-14T23:32:43","modified_gmt":"2016-08-14T23:32:43","slug":"more-than-just-bump-envy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/hopemeetsjoy.com\/index.php\/2016\/08\/14\/more-than-just-bump-envy\/","title":{"rendered":"more than just bump envy"},"content":{"rendered":"
As the weeks and the winter dragged on, it became almost comical how many girlfriends in my life became pregnant. \u00a0Within weeks, even days of my first miscarriage I learned that two very important women in my life were expecting. \u00a0Two others were due two months and the month before me. \u00a0 Four of my closest friends and I were due within months of each other. \u00a0 I kept picturing what COULD have been. \u00a0I COULD have hosted two of them at a Notre Dame tailgate, each of us with newborns in baby carriers strapped to us. \u00a0 I COULD\u00a0have enjoyed\u00a0co-hosting craft club with my good friend as we both embraced the firsts of pregnancy together. \u00a0I COULD\u00a0have been pregnant at all of their baby showers. We COULD have shopped for maternity clothes and nursery decor together. \u00a0I COULD have\u00a0experienced the firsts of motherhood with four of my closest friends.<\/div>\n
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I am not a selfish person. \u00a0I don’t forget my friends’ birthdays. \u00a0I’ve been told that I go above and beyond to make my friends feel special. \u00a0I get heartfelt thank you notes from parents of NICU babies saying that went out of my way to get them through some of the hardest weeks or months of their lives. \u00a0I wanted to feel nothing but JOY for these pregnant friends of mine. \u00a0I wanted to feel nothing but happiness for them. \u00a0I wanted to be able to hear about every little detail of their pregnancy. \u00a0I wanted to be able to hang out with them post miscarriage, because I needed my friends. \u00a0 But I found myself withdrawing from each of them. \u00a0It wasn’t just that they had a bump and I didn’t. \u00a0It was that I needed those girls to grab a glass of wine with. \u00a0I needed to talk to people who didn’t mention the words “baby” or “pregnant.” \u00a0And it hurt too much to hear about their nausea, their inability to go to Mexico because of Zika virus, \u00a0their excitement for their first child. \u00a0 So I withdrew. \u00a0And I deleted the Facebook app from my phone so I wouldn’t be plagued by bump announcements. \u00a0And I didn’t return phone calls. \u00a0 And that worked, for a little while. \u00a0I felt okay when I was at home. \u00a0I was getting good at practicing mindfulness and gratitude. \u00a0I downloaded an app called Calm, and did some type of mindfulness training every day. \u00a0(the Calm app saved my life those weeks! I meditated every day after my miscarriage and logged an impressive amount of hours that first month in mindfulness training.) I threw myself into working out. \u00a0I crafted many DIY projects around the house. \u00a0And I went to therapy.<\/div>\n
\u00a0\"IMG_5549\"<\/div>\n
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But then I went to work, in the NICU. \u00a0And I listened to many mothers on the verge of a breakdown venting to me about how hard it was to have their baby in the NICU. \u00a0About how it wasn’t part of their plan. \u00a0I was chewed out by a mother who delivered twins incredibly early due to her refusal to fill an antibiotic prescription. \u00a0I was training a new nurse who shared my same due date of September 29th, 2016. \u00a0And as her bump began to protrude, and people congratulated her and asked her how she was feeling, my heart ached. \u00a0 Working in the NICU is both challenging and rewarding. \u00a0 In the weeks following my miscarriage it felt much more challenging in that I wasn’t myself. \u00a0Coworkers noticed. \u00a0Parents who were used to me being a shoulder to cry on, or a sounding board to vent to noticed a change. \u00a0I just couldn’t. \u00a0I couldn’t be anyone’s therapist. \u00a0I felt overwhelmed by everything, and it took all of my strength to just care for the sweet babies that weren’t mine. \u00a0 It became that much harder to work with difficult mothers, mothers who had no prenatal care throughout their pregnancy, mothers who were completely unappreciative of the NICU staff. \u00a0 Surviving each 12 hour shift in those early weeks after my loss was all I could handle. \u00a0So I withdrew from my pregnant friends. \u00a0I just couldn’t handle any more.<\/div>\n
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<\/div>\n
\"IMG_5722\"<\/div>\n
\n.
\nMy therapist told me that withdrawing was okay. \u00a0I didn’t feel ready to be around these friends, and I hated myself for it. \u00a0Wasn’t I being selfish? These girls had achieved something amazing by becoming pregnant. \u00a0They had tiny miracles growing inside them- shouldn’t I celebrate with them on their JOY<\/strong>? We normally share everything with each other. \u00a0How could I let my personal sadness drive such a wedge between my closest friends and me? \u00a0I felt like a horrible person. \u00a0But withdrawing was what I needed at the time. \u00a0 I needed the space. \u00a0I told these friends that, and each one let me know that they were there for me whenever I felt ready.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n

Weeks and months passed. \u00a0I gradually worked my way from texting, to phone calls to seeing these friends in person. \u00a0I envisioned our reunions being so awkward- that there would be this elephant in the room. My therapist helped me realize that my pain might actually help enhance their JOY<\/strong>. That they might appreciate their pregnancy that much more in my presence. \u00a0She also suggested that I do something with my creative side to break the ice in those first meetings. \u00a0She suggested that I craft something for my friends’ babies, to honor and acknowledge their JOY<\/strong>. \u00a0And that really helped a lot. \u00a0When I first saw my best friend after six weeks, I brought her something for her baby girl. \u00a0And for the first time in six weeks, I was beginning to feel like myself again. \u00a0I am a person who crafts little things for babies, birthdays and celebrations. \u00a0Though it was still hard that day, the heartache ever so close to overshadowing the present, it felt GOOD to be with my friend. \u00a0I made some of the decorations for an old coworkers’ baby shower that was held earlier that same day. \u00a0I reunited with some of the best NICU nurses in Chicago- my friend who I do not get to see nearly enough to shower one of our own and her expected baby girl. \u00a0And I remember just feeling this overwhelming sense that I was going to be okay. \u00a0That this was GOOD. \u00a0That I missed this. \u00a0I remember feeling such HOPE<\/strong> that day as I was around those girls. \u00a0First pregnancy miscarriages are so common. \u00a0I’m felt so HOPE<\/strong>ful that my next pregnancy would come soon- and that everything would be okay the next time around. \u00a0I am blessed to have such understanding friends who gave me space when I needed it, and who welcomed me back when I was ready. \u00a0 There came a time where I felt that there was this shift in balance between my sadness and my longing for my friends. \u00a0That was an amazing thing to be celebrated.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

As the weeks and the winter dragged on, it became almost comical how many girlfriends in my life became pregnant. \u00a0Within weeks, even days of my first miscarriage I learned that two very important women in my life were expecting. \u00a0Two others were due two months and the month before me. \u00a0 Four of my closest friends and I were due within months of each other. \u00a0 I kept picturing what COULD have been. \u00a0I COULD have hosted two of them at a Notre Dame tailgate, each of us with newborns in baby carriers strapped to us. \u00a0 I COULD\u00a0have enjoyed\u00a0co-hosting craft club with my good friend as we both embraced the firsts of pregnancy together. \u00a0I COULD\u00a0have been pregnant at all of their baby showers. We COULD have shopped for maternity clothes and nursery decor together. \u00a0I COULD have\u00a0experienced the firsts of motherhood with four of my closest friends.   I am not a selfish person. \u00a0I don’t forget my friends’ birthdays. \u00a0I’ve been told that I go above and beyond to make my friends feel special. \u00a0I get heartfelt thank you notes from parents of NICU babies saying that went out of my way to get them through some of the hardest weeks or months of their lives. \u00a0I wanted to feel nothing but JOY for these pregnant friends of mine. \u00a0I wanted to feel nothing but happiness for them. \u00a0I wanted to be able to hear about every little detail of their pregnancy. \u00a0I wanted to be able to hang out with them post miscarriage, because I needed my friends. \u00a0 But I found myself withdrawing from each of them. \u00a0It wasn’t just that they had a bump and I didn’t. \u00a0It was that I needed those girls to grab a glass of wine with. \u00a0I needed to talk to people who didn’t mention the words “baby” or “pregnant.” \u00a0And it hurt too much to hear about their nausea, their inability to go to Mexico because of Zika virus, \u00a0their excitement for their first child. \u00a0 So I withdrew. \u00a0And I deleted the Facebook app from my phone so I wouldn’t be plagued by bump announcements. \u00a0And I didn’t return phone calls. \u00a0 And that worked, for a little while. \u00a0I felt okay when I was at home. \u00a0I was getting good at practicing mindfulness and gratitude. \u00a0I downloaded an app called Calm, and did some type of mindfulness training every day. \u00a0(the Calm app saved my life those weeks! I meditated every day after my miscarriage and logged an impressive amount of hours that first month in mindfulness training.) I threw myself into working out. \u00a0I crafted many DIY projects around the house. \u00a0And I went to therapy. \u00a0 But then I went to work, in the NICU. \u00a0And I listened to many mothers on the verge of a breakdown venting to me about how hard it was to have their baby in the NICU. \u00a0About how it wasn’t part of their plan. \u00a0I was chewed out by a mother who delivered twins incredibly early due to her refusal to fill an antibiotic prescription. \u00a0I was training a new nurse who shared my same due date of September 29th, 2016. \u00a0And as her bump began to protrude, and people congratulated her and asked her how she was feeling, my heart ached. \u00a0 Working in the NICU is both challenging and rewarding. \u00a0 In the weeks following my miscarriage it felt much more challenging in that I wasn’t myself. \u00a0Coworkers noticed. \u00a0Parents who were used to me being a shoulder to cry on, or a sounding board to vent to noticed a change. \u00a0I just couldn’t. \u00a0I couldn’t be anyone’s therapist. \u00a0I felt overwhelmed by everything, and it took all of my strength to just care for the sweet babies that weren’t mine. \u00a0 It became that much harder to work with difficult mothers, mothers who had no prenatal care throughout their pregnancy, mothers who were completely unappreciative of the NICU staff. \u00a0 Surviving each 12 hour shift in those early weeks after my loss was all I could handle. \u00a0So I withdrew from my pregnant friends. \u00a0I just couldn’t handle any more. . My therapist told me that withdrawing was okay. \u00a0I didn’t feel ready to be around these friends, and I hated myself for it. \u00a0Wasn’t I being selfish? These girls had achieved something amazing by becoming pregnant. \u00a0They had tiny miracles growing inside them- shouldn’t I celebrate with them on their JOY? We normally share everything with each other. \u00a0How could I let my personal sadness drive such a wedge between my closest friends and me? \u00a0I felt like a horrible person. \u00a0But withdrawing was what I needed at the time. \u00a0 I needed the space. \u00a0I told these friends that, and each one let me know that they were there for me whenever I felt ready. Weeks and months passed. \u00a0I gradually worked my way from texting, to phone calls to seeing these friends in person. \u00a0I envisioned our reunions being so awkward- that there would be this elephant in the room. My therapist helped me realize that my pain might actually help enhance their JOY. That they might appreciate their pregnancy that much more in my presence. \u00a0She also suggested that I do something with my creative side to break the ice in those first meetings. \u00a0She suggested that I craft something for my friends’ babies, to honor and acknowledge their JOY. \u00a0And that really helped a lot. \u00a0When I first saw my best friend after six weeks, I brought her something for her baby girl. \u00a0And for the first time in six weeks, I was beginning to feel like myself again. \u00a0I am a person who crafts little things for babies, birthdays and celebrations. \u00a0Though it was still hard that day, the heartache ever so close to overshadowing the present, it felt GOOD to be with my friend. \u00a0I made some of the decorations for an old coworkers’ baby shower that was held earlier that same day. \u00a0I reunited with some of the best NICU nurses in Chicago- my friend who I do not get to see nearly enough to shower one of our own and her expected baby girl. \u00a0And I remember just feeling this overwhelming sense that I was going to be okay. \u00a0That this was GOOD. \u00a0That I missed this. \u00a0I remember feeling such HOPE that day as I was around those girls. \u00a0First pregnancy miscarriages are so common. \u00a0I’m felt so HOPEful that my next pregnancy would come soon- and that everything would be okay the next time around. \u00a0I am blessed to have such understanding friends who gave me space when I needed it, and who welcomed me back when I was ready. \u00a0 There came a time where I felt that there was this shift in balance between my sadness and my longing for my friends. \u00a0That was an amazing thing to be celebrated.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":167,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-137","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-journey-to-parenthood"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/hopemeetsjoy.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/08\/FullSizeRender.jpg?fit=750%2C737&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p8oEBX-2d","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/hopemeetsjoy.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/hopemeetsjoy.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/hopemeetsjoy.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hopemeetsjoy.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hopemeetsjoy.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=137"}],"version-history":[{"count":19,"href":"https:\/\/hopemeetsjoy.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":178,"href":"https:\/\/hopemeetsjoy.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137\/revisions\/178"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hopemeetsjoy.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/167"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/hopemeetsjoy.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=137"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hopemeetsjoy.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=137"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hopemeetsjoy.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=137"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}