so, as i’ve mentioned before, i am one of 5 pregnant coworkers right now. actually, that’s just in our little immediate PA department, there are 3 or 4 more others department wide.
and i’ve been feeling on the outside of their happy little pregnancy chat circle this whole time and haven’t been able to put my finger on why that is. i’m even bitter and annoyed sometimes at the constant discussion of baby products and planning.
and these feelings bother me, because these are good friends of mine and i don’t like feeling disconnected or grouchy towards them. it also makes me wonder if there’s something wrong with me and i just have an inability to heal and be happy or something.
but yesterday this apt little metaphor occurred to me…
it’s like we’re all running our first marathon. but this is my third attempt at it. i started my marathon training over 2 years ago and found that i had asthma and bunions, so running wasn’t easy for me. but i eventually did start the race. and when i did, i fell and broke my leg on mile 8. after i healed, i didn’t want to, but i got back up and started training again, (bandaged the bunions and grabbed my inhalers). i plunged into my second attempt and was feeling great until about mile 6 when i got mugged and stabbed in the aorta. that was a real bloody mess, so it took a while to recover from that one. but despite all these injuries and misfortunes, i REALLY wanted to finish a freaking marathon. so i started training again and am currently running my third attempted marathon. i am on about mile 20 out of 26. and i feel really good, and am extremely grateful that i haven’t fallen or been stabbed in a major vessel or anything. but i am also just extremely focused on getting to that finish line. i have to finish. i am watching the pavement in front of me and i don’t see or hear anything else. i have to finish.
and then there’s my running buddies (my coworkers) who, for the most part, decided they were going to run a marathon. trained briefly for the marathon, and then ran the marathon. and they’re doing great. have no reason to believe they won’t finish. and are concerned with things like matching their running shorts to their shoes. and whether or not their husband will be in the right spot to take their picture as they pass by him on the course.
i think i’m envious of this freedom, this ease, this simple joy. i hope i’m not taking it out on them or anything. i’ll have to watch for that.
but i am also grateful for my own battle. i know how sweet it will be to cross that finish line. how much the photo at the end will mark my struggle, my pain, my drive to finally finish it, holes and scars and all. how triumphant and amazing and blessed i will feel.
i just had to share that, because i wouldn’t be at all surprised if my cohorts in this miscarriage club have felt something of the same.
you’re not alone.