There is someone in my life, someone I've mentioned on here before, who means a lot to me. She is related to me by blood, but we have a friendship that, I feel, transcends those basic familial ties.
I remember discussing her first pregnancy and traumatic birth experience. I remember the great openness we had when she decided to try for her third child, especially since I was finally in a position to seriously consider having a child of my own. I remember cheering her on through her second pregnancy, even though I was a little emotionally tender from hearing about it, I kept the pom-poms upright and the pleated skirt straight. And I remember doing my absolute best to support her in the aftermath of yet another medically terrifying and emotionally crushing delivery.
I always planned on having her with me when I went on this TTC journey for real. I wanted to email her my updates, rants and raves. Send tons of meaningless links about cribs, cradles, breastfeeding, parenting and tons more. Coming up with some adorable way to proclaim the actual conception and immediately giving it to her. Sending the inevitable belly pictures.
But I haven't. I can't.
Her two prior traumatic births and current reproductive uncertainty have left a larger scar than I had originally thought. She recently wrote me to vent about her best friend, her sister, who has be unreasonably gush-y in the whole pregnancy/baby department. I completely understand where she is coming from and I am happy that I could help, in some small way, by just listening. But it's given me a bit of a complex. I am very scared of saying something to hurt her, the last thing I'd ever want to do. So I say nothing.
It kills me, but I say nothing.