Friday, May 27, 2011


One of my teammates is pregnant. As in, she peed on a stick this morning and got a plus.

This is number 2 for her. Number 1 was an unexpected surprise.

She's been trying for exactly one month.


I told her the other day that there would be a small part of me that would hate her if she got pregnant this month. She said she understood.

There is a small part of me that hates her.

And a large part of me that is so jealous, it makes me cry. How nice would it be to decide "hey, it's time for number 2. Let's to this." I keep thinking that if/when Jeff and I go for number 2, it's going to be a long drawn out process of finding the money, deciding if we want the same doctor or try to find a new one, picking a new donor since the one we used is sold out, doctor visits, medicine, OPKs, more money, more doctor visits, more stress.

I'm happy for her. I think it's funny that she went from "never having more children, ever" at the beginning of my pregnancy to actively trying by the time I got back from maternity leave. I'm excited that there will be another child on the team that's close to Cate's age.

But mostly I'm jealous.


  1. God that sucks. Sometimes it's hard to like fertiles.

  2. You have every right to hate her (a little bit) and to be crazy jealous.

    I've been going to a pre-natal yoga class and having a really hard time listening to some of the women talk about their little ones at home, and make other comments that are so caviler about pregnancy and trying for another and stuff like that. I want to call them out, but I also find myself just clamming up and feeling very alone. It sucks.

    love to you julie.