I've been avoiding some friends of ours since they got pregnant.

I just answered my phone without looking and it was the husband.

I couldn't come up with a good reason not to see them on the spot, since I haven't seen them since I was 10 weeks pregnant with Gabriel.

So we're going out Wednesday night. I'm sure when we do it will be ok, but I don't want to. I really am not sure I can talk about pregnancy or her baby boy (I'm not even entirely sure when she's due) and only just managed to avoid going out to their new house, for fear we'd have to see the nursery.

I know I've been a terrible friend to them, but I have to protect myself as well. And I really was (probably very, very unrealistically) hoping to push this off until after their son was born. I don't have as much trouble with babies.

What to say...I can see this from so many angles.

I know your friends must miss you. And I can relate with your anxiety since my SIL is desperate to see K & I, but we just can't since they have a 3.5 mo - Foster's niece. The idea of seeing their live pink wailing baby compared to my still one make my guts churn, and it's all my issue.

Can you tell them honestly? that you need more time? That you love them and care for them, but can't yet make this leap? That when the baby is here, you'll be ready then?

compassionate hugs,
S

First off, you are not a terrible friend. Not at all. You are just doing what you need to do to protect yourself. As far as seeing your friends. if you feel it is too difficult for you to do, I agree with Sarah-- tell them how hard it is. They will understand (if they don't, then maybe they are not the friends you thought they were). If you don't feel comfortable being direct (it is a very hard thing to do, so I could totally understand if you don't) then feign sickness or make up some excuse. A little fib is totally excusable under the circumstances. On the other hand, you may find at the last minute that you are ready to see them. Whatever you decide, I hope that you experience some peace and comfort with your decision.

It is rough. I remember that I had just found one of my old friends, my best friend from elementary school, actually, via facebook at the beginning of my pregnancy with Aeryn. After Aeryn's death, I wrote a poem shortly after finding this site, don't know if it will help or not but in the hopes it will:

Gorgon

I hate you now, with your swelling bellies,
Because I am now gorgon, medusa -
Named, callled, and standing here before you.
If I look at you, will you turn to stone?
Or will I, if you are my mirror?

I see you and I cringe, fearing contagion -
I know that the blood that killed my children
Is not yours, that my gaze is not death,
But I cringe in spite of that knowledge,
My gut twisted, my heart broken.

I am no cruel Leto, I wish no one harm-
But one pegasus, two hydra's teeth -
All my children, together at last,
I fade away across rivers of tears,
And mists of time and memory.

The best advice I can offer is have an escape, don't be afraid to leave if you need to, and no, you're not actually contagious, you're not, but it will take you a long time and a lot of repetition before it gets easier (notice I did not say easy) to be around expectant mothers and small children.

I really don't think I can put them off much longer and retain any hope of remaining friends. They've been very generous in support and time and distance, and I've been avoiding them.

I'm not entirely sure why them - I spent my lunch hour chatting away with a friend who is pregnant (as we do probably three times a week or more) and am watching another friend put the nursery together for her second son.

The distance maybe? Knowing that I don't have to see them, that they won't be bothered by my reticence? That there won't be a huge elephant in the room, sitting with us at the table, in the form of her very pregnant body and baby boy squirming inside?

Or is just that our live were to have changed and haven't? That the biggest news we have is that we were able to get Gabe's name written in the sand. That yes, we're (still) trying again, no we aren't having luck? That life is continuing on precisely as it did a year ago, only it's much more fragile and hollow? Such lovely dinner conversation, don't you think?

I am dreading it.

Eliza,

I don't really have any advice to share, but wanted you to know that I'll be thinking of you on Wednesday and will send a prayer of peace out for you.

Katherine, your poem is AMAZING. Thank you so much for sharing.

Eliza, just wanted to say that I'll be thinking of you tomorrow. I hope you come away from seeing your friends feeling empowered. You are brave to confront a difficult situation.

This is off the subject, but I also want to say that I think you should consider being a contributor to Glow. Your writing has always really impressed me. I think you have a lot of insight to offer.

I was thinking that too, Steph.

I hope it's not as hard as you dread seeing them, eliza. i'll be thinking of you.

Just got home.

It was both better and worse than expected.

For a very long time it was very awkward. B was sitting at a 90 degree angle so her bump was quite prominent. I was trying hard to be pleasant and participate in the conversation, but it was sooooo awkward. There were a herd of elephants dancing around the table as we talked about work. DH said it was really clear that I was very uncomfortable, even though I was trying to hide it.

Finally the bill was paid and then we were finishing up coffee and dessert and then the subject was broached in a really roundabout and almost natural way and over the next hour, the story poured out. A lot of people don't know it - B is a nurse who nearly went into l&d and she cried when I told her what happened at the hospital. They told us about their baby and the dam was opened and I was able to talk to her and ask questions and they told us about their scares in this pregnancy and it turns out we are both using the same OB practice, though different doctors.

Things ended well. They admitted to being as nervous as I was - M told me B was trying to find the least revealing outfit and think about how we could be more comfortable.

So, in all, net gain. I think they understand better why I've been so distant and feel now like they can share more with me, and I feel like I can hear it. I even felt the baby kick (at her invitation). So . . . yeah. I'm still glad it's done.

So glad you got through it alright. I just sobbed hysterically at your penultimate line though.

Glad to hear that the dinner went better than expected. I am sure that you feel hugely relieved. You are a much stronger soul than I, though. I could not feel another woman's baby kick, at least not right now. I think I'd rather place my hand on a burning stove. How sad is that?

I'm so glad it ended well.

I've never actually felt someone's baby kick. I'm not sure about putting my hand on a burning stove instead - but if that was the choice, it would be a hard hard decision.

She would have understood if I'd said no. It wasn't pressure filled at all. It was a really natural sort of moment.

The way it all happened ended up being very organic. I wouldn't have done it if I felt like it was anything but a newly reached comfort level. I don't know if I can explain. I was worried it would be like that from the beginning. Lots of baby talk and such, and I couldn't have handled that. But by the end, it was ok. Probably because we spent so much time talking about Gabe. It was ok then.

Still think I'll be skipping the shower, but it was a good thing.