Work is going really well… I’m enjoying it. The people seem nice. When there are no customers we sit around and talk about girlie things, like labor. And, you know, I actually get to join in. As crappy as this year has been, as huge a loss as we have had, it is so awesome to finally get to join in these kinds of discussions. I’ve been there, I’ve experienced it. The infertile side of me is just so happy about that. I think these social situations would have been much harder before getting pregnant than they are now after our loss.

Everyone at work now knows about Devin and what happened, and they’ve been really good about not freaking out. I do notice everyone backpedals when they first find out… they apologise for bringing it up. I can understand that. Of course they’re going to feel nervous, they don’t know what kind of mental space I’m in. At least they are thinking about how horrible it must be. I respond by letting them know that it’s okay to talk about it, I’m okay with that. It doesn’t take them long to pick up on my ease of speaking about my pregnancy experience and I feel like I’ve been included as one of the “mommies.”

Watching the pregnant girl is hard though. She’s almost at her due date and of course everyone is talking about it. I try not to stare. Everyone else looks at her with pity, “Oh that poor girl, she’s so uncomfortable.” I’m the only one there who looks at her with envy. I would trade places with her in an instant. Not just because she’s getting a baby shortly, either – but simply because boy do I wish I knew what it felt like to be almost to your due date. I was cut short, and was still pretty comfortable. Oh I was having some trouble sleeping, and he had a foot in my ribs, but I still wasn’t huge, wasn’t ready to have it done with. I’d give anything to experience that. I really hope next time I can ride it out to my due date before having a meltdown and needing to get induced for my own sanity (because of the loss – not because of discomfort or anything). I feel like I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering what it’s like.

I know I’m unusual, and possibly a little irrational. Even among infertiles, who do treasure the experience, most people really just want the baby at the end. I revel in the pregnancy. I loved it so much. I miss it – not just Devin, but miss feeling pregnant. I miss the nausea, the aching, the waddle, the tight belly and popped-out belly button. I miss it so much it hurts.

If I was told I couldn’t get pregnant again I don’t know what I’d do. I spend every day counting down my time to doing IVF – to the next chance I get to be pregnant again. I’m really glad to be busy most of the day. I’m really glad to have something to do with my time. I know I’d spend my whole day obsessing, and that’s just not healthy. (Not certain pushing myself this hard is all that healthy, either, but at least it’s just temporary.)