I'm not that sympathetic.

Heh. My sister called my mom to complain about being pregnant. Yeah, that was a good move.

It's not been a good week for the reproductive health of my mom's loved ones, including some intensely sad news for a close friend.

So when my sis, S, called to complain about the loss of her figure (and the waste of all those plastic surgeries), the absolute injustice of being forced into a third c-section, and the heartbreak of having to have a baby with a birthday so close to Christmas (a subject near-and-dear to her heart since S has always hated having her own birthday then).. mom wasn't too sympathetic.

Mom pointed out that the whole loss of figure was something she knew going into this. The cesarean birth, also should not have surprised her. The Christmas birthday? If it were really that important, they'd have waited. (I should point out, my sister has never had fertility problems. At least not infertility problems... so skipping a month to prevent a birthdate she really didn't want isn't a hardship.. and even if it were, complaining that you chose to try on a certain month and succeeded.. yeah, that's kinda tacky. I promise that if my family planning goes in that direction and I conceive that July baby, I will NOT complain. Jokes ok, angst-ridden diatribes, not ok).

I'm trying to be a little sympathetic. Although she is my older sister, I kinda think of her more as the little sister I never had. The teenage little sister I never had. She sorta got stuck in that all-about-me 17-year-old mentality. (some day I'll share with you the story of how my miscarriage turned into a conversation about how my reproductive issues might impact her life). Remember as a teen when everything was drama-filled and the smallest things became Really Big Problems? She's still stuck in that... so, yeah, I'm trying to be sympathetic. Is it working yet? Not really.

So I'm working on a letter to her* - what do you think?

Dear S,
Just wanted to send a quick note to say how truly sorry I am that you will be enduring a surgical birth, for this poor child who will be born way too close to Christmas. Perhaps you can think of this as a slightly more invasive tummy-tuck, voluntarily endured. As a bonus, between the frequent-flier miles you've got with your surgeon and the overall holiday good cheer, they'll give you a baby. Cheer up, and look on the brighter side of things. And (((hugs))). I know this has been such a tough ordeal for you.

much love,
me

* no really, I'm not sending this. But I do feel better writing it.