I don't make a habit of passing out advice, especially unsolicited advice, but I'm going to make an exception.
If there is someone in your life who is dealing with/dealt with infertility/you suspect they may be dealing with infertility/would love nothing more than to have a child but doesn't have a partner/etc. and someone close to them (e.g., a sibling) has a baby, reach out to them. A simple "I love you" or "I'm thinking about you" text works great. Let them know you're thinking about them in a tangible way, yet one that doesn't necessarily require a response.
My sister had her baby yesterday.
You'll recall that she's basically a coward and couldn't tell me that she was pregnant herself, instead relying on our mother to break the news.
I had limited contact with her while she was pregnant and only saw her twice. The limited contact wasn't really intentional but was a product of busy schedules. My sister isn't the most likable person to be around when she's not pregnant, and she's insufferable when pregnant.
I moved past the hurt that came from her cowardice. Or at least I thought I did. As it turns out, not enough time has passed to heal this wound.
I lost it. I took it harder than I did any of the back to back to back sister pregnancies. I cried myself to sleep last night.
Beyond being a part of a group text with my mom, sisters, and one of my cousins, my sister hasn't reached out to me personally. Which is fine. She can talk to whoever she wants. I muted the chat and didn't respond to anything on it before I muted it. I'll deal with it when I'm ready.
I am hurting.
And I'm hurt.
But the hurt isn't jealousy or the all too familiar pangs of the loss of dreams (though those were there too), rather most of it comes from the actions of my mother. Or inaction, as the case may be.
Part of being a parent is being there for your children, both for the happy and for the sad. And if a person has more than one child, there is the possibility of both emotions existing simultaneously. If there is time to take a gazillion pictures and gloat about a new grandbaby on social media, there is time to send a text to the one you know is hurting.
Yet no such text came. And still hasn't. The message that I don't matter was received loud and clear. God, it hurts.
I'm so mad at myself for letting my guard down and allowing hope that she would do better this time to creep in.
I am grateful for friends who are like family.