Dichotomy

A close friend of mine just found she is pregnant. With one. Not two.

My heart sank, because this may be her only chance for a viable pregnancy, and for me, because I wanted so badly to share my experience with her. We have been friends for a long time, and our paths paralleled since the carefree days in high school French class. We both married, but waited to have children, instead focusing on travel and career. I gauged my own timeline by hers, checking in occasionally to see if we were still on course.

I have a curious "gift" - among my friends, I know when they are pregnant before they tell me (and sometimes before they know). It's usually in the form of a dream, but sometimes it's just a feeling. With one of my friends, I literally woke up knowing the morning after the baby was conceived.

But with fertility treatments, my baby radar goes haywire. I knew when implantation occurred - because my friend told me. I waited for the dream to confirm it was successful, but it never came. I would wake up before it was time, make note that I hadn't dreamt anything specific about her, and go back to sleep hoping the next time I awoke I would know. Day after day, as I waited for her text message, I began to wonder if the procedure was fruitless. Finally, the call came - she was pregnant! I stomped my feet and tried to squeal with delight quietly in my small office.

Then, we were left to ponder - one baby, twins or maybe even triplets?! As tormenting as it was for me to wait, it must have been that much more so for her and her husband. I can only imagine the conversations that they must have had - hoping, wondering, second guessing. This is part of the fertility experience that is both thrilling and heart wrenching at the same time.

In the end (or the beginning as it were), there were two yolk sacs indicating the inception of twins, but only one with a heartbeat.

It's an internal struggle for me. I find myself caught between my selfish desire to be her mentor, my belief that she and her husband _deserve_ children, and my newly held stance that infants were meant to come one at a time.

Ultimately, I'm beyond thrilled that she will soon experience the joy of motherhood. The fact that I raised infants in duplicate only better prepares me to support her as she navigates down that road.

Sometimes I need to remind myself that we are all on different paths - the one we are meant to travel.