This morning—less than an hour after having my blood drawn at the clinic to check whether all hcg is out of my system —I got a stream of texts that Brother and SIL had their newest baby, followed by a plethora of pics of Baby X. Literally, Baby X, because of yet he has no name. And as for my hcg, it’s at 6.6. How antithetic my RE visits have become.
The news stung. It still stings. In a sense, it’s poetic.
Yes, people have babies every single day. Yes, there’s probably even pregnant women reading this post. I don’t begrudge anyone their happiness, not my brother, and especially not my fellow infertile friends who’ve walked a tough, emotional, and likely expensive road. The news of most other people’s babies being born doesn’t really affect me one way or another. But this baby? All my life Brother has one-upped me in every way. We’re pretty close in age, and as kids we hung out all the time. Out of four siblings, there’s always been a strong undercurrent of sibling rivalry between the two of us. I’ll skip the details, but every major milestone of my life he has somehow managed to—deliberately or accidentally—trump me. Because of our competitive history, today it feels like he prevailed…. yet again.
Is it Really Bad that I don’t want to visit the new baby? My own nephew for that matter?! I feel like a terrible person for this, even though people assure me that it’s understandable, normal, to be expected, ad nauseam. I had previously made plans earlier this week to stop at Brother’s house tomorrow on the way back from my hair appointment to drop off a birthday present for his youngest daughter, and all I can selfishly think is: a) I hope no one’s home, and b) if anyone is home, that Baby X will hopefully not have been released from the hospital by the time I get there. I’m still a bit fragile these days: seeing his newborn baby that he gets to have when I inexplicably didn’t get to keep my own is more than I can take right now.
I wonder lately if God has allowed the timing of the baby situation in my family to show me what’s inside of me; if so, I don’t like what I’ve found. This one part of me that I haven’t surrendered to the Lord shows me how many areas of my soul I have yet to let go.
Some days, it’s just tough being a human.