The conversation started innocently enough. Grey was preparing dinner and I was sneaking a moment away from the Beats as they were playing. As he was cutting vegetables, he was imagining a positive outcome to his interview on Friday. Of getting an offer and being able to move back to the West Coast. As Grey vocalized his daydream, he had a moment where he started talking about the benefit of being close to family. That we would be only an hour away from his brother Lucas and his family and wouldn't it be so nice to be able to have the Beats meet their cousins?
Then, pausing briefly, he ventured into territory I know has been on his mind.
"You know, I think you and Moon would get along. You both have a lot in common. . . ."
Daring to look up at me, Grey immediately got his answer to his probing with the look on my face. Which then devolved in a 5 minute fight before we both decided it wasn't worth fighting about and me leaving the room.
The comment has stayed with me, though. Mainly because over the past 5 years, I know this one thought has been on Grey's and his family's brain.
Brief backstory for everyone who doesn't know the history: Grey's younger brother Lucas (who's my age) and his wife Moon (who's a year older than Grey) started dating around the same time Grey and I did. Grey and Lucas have always been close, so there's always been a weird vibe with hitting milestones. Grey and I were married almost a year after we first met (yes, I know. We're one of those) while Lucas and Moon went through an extended courtship involving a break-up and relocation. In 2008, they decided to marry, which was met with joy. And then we learned that Moon was pregnant, having gone off birth control without telling Lucas. Cue shock. Cue more shock when it was announced they were having twins. And cue me realizing my biological clock was ticking.
It was during our visit to them in 2009 to help out with their newborn twins that Grey and I came to the agreement it was time to try to expand our family. Honestly, that trip was a bonding one for all four of us as Grey and I spent 10 days pulling them out of a complete shitstorm that was not being ready for twin parenting. I remember leaving for the airport that last day and wondering if there was a way we could somehow all live together, supporting one another as I assumed pregnancy would be just around the corner.
Over the next 2 years, that would be destroyed. As we closed out 2010 without a single BFP, I found myself being resentful when Grey's family announced travel plans that excluded us so they could see the grandkids. As we began treatments, the focus was on Lucas, Moon and how much they were struggling to parent twins. As much as I reasoned it wasn't their fault, it was hard to feel so alone during our journey.
Then Lucas and Moon dropped a bomb and a
nnounced they were expecting a month after my second miscarriage. The baby having a due date similar
to the one for babies I lost. And
that is when the wall went up. Despite
attempts to break that wall, it's remained firmly in place.
I know what you're thinking: why not forgive? Why not move on? This is where things get weird because I've spent countless hours on that end. There's been that rationalizing, involving recognizing that Lucas and Moon's actions were not meant to harm Grey and me. There's been me looking inward, trying to determine why I feel anger over the situation, addressing jealousy, fear, abandonment and loss. I've gone back and forth and back again.
The only thing I can tell you is that the root of this dislike involves feeling completely abandoned and unacknowledged during what has been one of the most trying periods of my life. And that I expected better.
At the same time Moon and Lucas announced their pregnancy, close friends also announced they were expecting. The difference for the outcome from their announcement was that when these friends learned about our loss, they sent flowers; a small bouquet with a sympathy card. That gesture and acknowledgement made it possible to move beyond the initial hurt and be supportive of them as they entered parenthood. The flip example is with my mom, who told me that I needed to get over myself when I told her I was infertile because "she was going to be a grandmother." I'm resigned with my mom, with her words and actions being final nail in the coffin for any close relationship.
The situation with Moon and Lucas lies in between. With the added wrinkle being that Moon and I are very different individuals. Moon is someone who has embraced the identity of "Mom," posting about life fulfillment due to pregnancy and being able to give birth. Whereas I am an infertile who is parenting. Though I adore the Beats, I don't identify with being a mom. There were no bump photos or maternity shoots. I don't see my body as somehow graced due to coming out the other side of pregnancy with two living children.
Most importantly, having children hasn't been this healing force. The healing that has come has been due to a lot of self-reflection, analysis and change that I've fought to bring about. Putting that responsibility on the Beats is unfair in my eyes as their role in this world is their own. As illustrated in
Kahlil Gibran's poem "On Children," it's not their role to complete me and heal old wounds. All of this is made more complicated over the bafflement that exists from Grey's family that
pregnancy didn't cure all the pain and grief from infertility.
The thing is, I don't want to continue the cold war. Especially if all Grey and I are hoping for with this job interview comes through. I've watched my mom's family devolve due to grudges and not addressing deep hurts to the point of utter ridiculousness. I also have memories of those previous periods where I wasn't seen as the bat-shit crazy in-law. In addition, having it out could be good and could be very healing. But I also don't see the road towards that door nor that there's a point to such an option in anyone's eyes. Me getting over myself and apologizing for all my craziness is what has been pressed for, which fits nicely with the ongoing theme of feeling unacknowledged and abandoned.
So for now, I'm in limbo having agreed to not actively fight and to be civil. Wishing that old wounds were washed clean instead of allowed to fester.