Changed Friendships

Sometimes I really hate what PCOS has done to my relationships with other people.

Brother and California Sister-in-law (CSIL) are spontaneously coming to visit tomorrow and I'm not excited.  I used to be excited.  Whenever I got to spend time with them it was my favorite.  Their apartment was like a haven for me where I could relax and be myself.  And if things had gone a different way and I were pregnant now or at least trying without a death sentence hanging over my head, I think our relationship would still be joyful and full of excitement.  Instead, I feel like there's bitterness between us.

She's bitter that I have to be struggling while she's trying because if she does get pregnant she just wants to be happy about it.  She'd really rather not deal with my pain.

And if I'm honest, I am bitter, too.  I'm bitter that she doesn't have to go through what I have to go through.  That she might actually get pregnant.  And if she does, I know that the first thing she will feel is joy.  You know what I will feel if I get pregnant?  Terror.  Because a little pink line on a stick isn't the end game for me.  I want a child.  And PCOS doesn't stop ruining my life after implantation.  My risk of miscarriage is so much higher than everyone else's.  So I know that if I'm ever blessed enough to get a positive pregnancy test, I will immediately be terrified that I will mess it up, that the positive isn't real, that I will lose the child, that I will never be whole again once I do.  Meanwhile, CSIL would just be blissfully counting days and getting ready for her little miracle to bounce out of her youthful and fresh uterus and into her waiting arms.

And it's worse because she's such a private person.  So private.  So she might not tell me right away if she does get that positive.  But not knowing only makes it more painful for me so I keep having to ask in sneaky ways.  And I want to hear about how the process is going for her but she keeps not wanting to talk about it, even though I will understand the process of trying better than anyone!  So that makes me feel like I can't talk about my own process.  But when I try not to talk about it, it just swells in me, fighting to get out and I can't think of anything else in my life remotely worth mentioning.

I hate walking on eggshells.  I hate dreading the thought of seeing someone I love.  I hate that I'm finding it really hard to forgive her for telling me how much it sucks for HER that I am struggling right now.  I hate talking about it and I hate not talking about it.  I just hate the whole situation, and I hate that it is the way it is because of the thing that's wrong with ME.  It's always me and my stupid body that make everything terrible.

And I hate that I have all these horrible thoughts and feelings over a simple lunch.  Just lunch.  That's all.

I hope that the restaurant we go to seats us at a table made of beheaded children and puppy tears so that I will have a legitimate reason for having a terrible time.  I honestly do.