Tuesday, September 05, 2006

My subconscious life as a rotten sibling.

Last night was a bizarre night for my dreams. Ordinarily, I don't remember my dreams. I think it's a side effect of my total denial of reality two weeks out of each month. I've learned to block out my subconscious mostly.

Last night was different.

Dream #1 involved B & I buying a house and painting a nursery. Now, we're not planning on buying anything any time soon, and I know there is NO way I'd paint a nursery without being at least 9.5 months pregnant. Even then, I think I'd use G's washable crayons just in case - something goes wrong and - poof! all trace of nursery decor is erased with a sponge and a bit of soapy water. Still, there we were, painting. Right after we'd bought the house and before I was pregnant. Now there's a surefire way to guarantee a bit of infertility, isn't it? The one thing that made sense to me was that we were painting the nursery blue. B's family, they don't make girls.

Dream #2 was far more bizarre. My mother somehow got pregnant. Despite the fact that both my parents have gone to great surgical lengths to prevent that, AND my mother is post-menopausal, there she was, knocked up.* I remember something about "why can't you just be happy for me?"**, and stranger still, I remember being happy when the baby was born. A girl, in case you're interested. I'm hoping this is my subconscious telling me that it's possible to not accept a pregnancy through its entire duration and somehow get really happy about a birth. I'm not holding my breath, but I'm definitely hoping I can get more cheerful about birth before my nephew is born 'cause I sure as hell haven't been able to get happy about his gestation.

Which - finally - brings me to my point. Yesterday, I was reading PCOS baby. She posted a really honest account of what it can be like when someone close to you gives birth while you are still struggling. I can't tell you how close to home that hit for me.

I'm struggling - both to get pregnant and to be happy that my sister is. For the first time in her life, she's really, truly, in a position to enjoy her pregnancy... and for the first time, I can't just be happy. I'm sure somewhere deep inside, I'm happy for her. I'm just having a bit of trouble finding that part of me. It's buried under my pity-party. As a result, we haven't actually spoken in months. No big fight, just a reality I can't face, and no desire to start a conversation with her pregnancy hovering like the giant elephant in the room. You know the one - no one's willing to talk about it, but everyone knows it's there.

Which makes me something like the worst sister in the world, right?

It feels that way at least.

I know it's not just me - phone lines work both ways and all... but I can see why she wouldn't be dialing my number any time soon. Especially since she's more than halfway through her pregnancy and I haven't actually called her to say congrats. Which I really need to do soon. Otherwise, I'll be congratulating her on her pregnancy at the child's high school graduation.

Not to mention I have these giant dust-collecting boxes of baby clothes that I know she could use. That I know I won't be using any time soon...

See - there I go again qualifying her pregnancy with my pity party. How on earth do I separate her life from my own feelings about my situation? If I could figure out that part of things, I'd be doing ok.

*I remember reading not too long ago that someone in blogland had a dream that their mother was pregnant.. I'm thinking that inspired my dream.. and I'm a little worried that blogland is invading my sleep now... perhaps this is another sign of FCP?

**which is weird because I'm pretty sure that if my ma turned up with a bun in her oven, she'd be the least happy one of all

1 comment:

DD said...

At least with your sister, you can convince yourself that the clothes are "on loan". Remember, getting good-karma points is always beneficial.

I would send her the clothes with a short note, and I do mean SHORT!

Struggling with infertility does not diminish another's wonderful news, it just dampens the enthusiasm you have for it and it's OK to feel that way. Not only is it OK, it's normal, and don't ever feel as if you have to "excuse" yourself.