I know that I am. I know that my little woe-is-me-I-want-what-she's-got tantrum when my SIL announced that she was pregnant was bratty and childish and really bad karma. The only redeeming thing about that tantrum was that she didn't have a clue about it. It was safely kept between myself, my husband, my best friend... and anyone who reads my blog. The tantrum really wasn't about her being pregnant at all. It was that she and her husband had decided, as "we" have decided, not to have any more children, then when they found out they were expecting, they were very happy about it, and I knew that if that happened to us, I'd be the only one who was happy. I'd be the only one WANTING it. And I do want another baby, I'm not just mourning that stage of my life, I really truly feel like another baby belongs in this family. Hence, the Personal Pity Party and Tantruming Vent I had a few weeks ago when we found out about SIL. It just brought everything to the surface for me, everything I had been thinking and keeping inside to myself just came exploding to the surface feeling raw and painful.
Yesterday, we went to MIL's house and when I asked SIL how she was feeling, she said she was fine. I asked her how the pregnancy was going, and it turns out that two weeks ago, they had trouble finding the baby's heartbeat. That was at 9 weeks gestation. At 10 weeks, last week, they still couldn't find the heartbeat, but didn't want to call it, even with a regular ultrasound and a transvaginal ultrasound. Today, in her 11th week, they confirmed that the baby didn't make it. My other SIL says she's holding up well. When I talked to her yesterday, she did say that they've been prepared for this for a couple of weeks, and weren't getting their hopes up. She hadn't been having morning sickness, but she thought that because she wasn't bleeding that everything was probably fine, and maybe the baby was just too small or in a bad position. She seemed to know already though. And today it was confirmed.
I feel horrible. Horrible that even though she has no clue about my own selfish tantrum, that I had it at all. Even though it had nothing to do with her or her pregnancy. I feel horrible like somehow, my negative, jealous energy contributed to her miscarriage. I know rationally that it's not true, but I still feel like a bitchy brat. I never wished a miscarriage on her, I'd never wish that on ANYONE, let alone my own SIL. I'm so sad for her, and feeling quite ashamed of myself. No one should ever have to endure 4 miscarriages in their lifetime, no one should have to endure 4 D&C's in their lifetime. Surprisingly, when I talked to her yesterday, she seemed very much at peace about the whole thing because (she said) she's been through it before, she has two beautiful, very much wanted daughters, and because this baby wasn't planned, but I think more because she felt for a while that something was wrong and has been preparing herself for today. What makes it suck more is that she has to have the D&C on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving. I can't imagine that she'll be feeling like visiting and dining with anyone, but she still plans on not only having Thanksgiving dinner with us, but then traveling with the children and her DH to have dinner with her IL's as well.
So, she's in my prayers, as is her darling little one that didn't make it. I hope to God she never knows what a true brat I really am, and that all she knows is that I feel very badly and sad for her.
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