...things were back on track, a friend tells me she is pregnant.
Of course I'm extremely happy for her. In fact, I'm more than extremely happy for her because she had a miscarriage last time around, at 11 weeks, just like me. And I knew how keen she was to have a second child. So I'm really and truly happy for her.
Just that I had to fight back tears since she told me. I'm not sure why.
It could be because she has the same week count as I would have had.
It could be the thought how she was one of the first people I told of my own
miscarriage, when she herself must have been 11 weeks, and very apprehensive. When I told her, as it was happening, it must have brought back memories, additional concerns and it also must have been hard for her to know she would have to tell me at some point that she is pregnant, with the same week count as I was.
Maybe it was because it is such a shame that we now cannot share being pregnant together, just as it was a shame that I'm no longer able to share being pregnant with my sister in law and so many other friends who are currently pregnant - I was looking forward to being pregnant with them, to share the journey.
Or it could be that it reminded me of my miscarriage, because she too had suffered one, as well as the hope for the future, that next time around all will be well, as it is for her now, maybe of her being a mirror of my own situation.
Possibly it was because all of these emotions just fell upon me all at once and without warning, and it was getting too much to make sense of there and then, to distinguish between joy and an acute feeling of what is lost.
I'm sure my friend was very aware of the delicate situation. I feel uncomfortable and guilty for not being able to communicate how immensely happy I actually am for her. That missed opportunity which makes me feel rather mad at myself, because really all she deserves is people feeling unreservedly happy for her.