Pregnant people everywhere

What is up with me being jealous of the pregnant women in my life? One of my close friends is trying to get pregnant. An old friend is pregnant with her first, another good friend is trying to adopt, and my cousin just found out she is pregnant with her third. When I called my husband to tell him, he said that his best friend’s wife was pregnant too. So why am I jealous? I hate being pregnant. I hate every pound of pregnancy! And I am finally at a place (two years post Brady) that I’m content with my physical appearance. I’m totally surprised by my reaction, and yet I have a longing to feel what these women are feeling. It’s not like I don’t think about maybe one day having a third, or that the possibility of an unplanned pregnancy might be fun, it’s just that I thought I was finally happy in the here and now. I thought I was in a “good place” and now, suddenly, I find myself feeling envious. Weird!

I wonder what’s up with that. Maybe it is the whole miracle of life thing. After all, I am on this growth journey, and one of my (up until this point) unconscious intentions is to create miracles (yes, I realize how arrogant that sounds). What more tangible miracle is there? And the idea of a “surprise” pregnancy is even more appealing because it has the touch of the Divine. A baby conceived despite the best efforts to avoid pregnancy is truly “meant to be”. Both of my children were planned (and yet still completely totally meant to be). I wanted them, and felt that their timing was appropriate for what my life could handle. Quinn was conceived shortly after Jim and I got married, and Brady shortly after we bought our three bedroom house with a yard. But the idea of life handing me a baby is so delicious right now. Being forced to surrender to what is, and trust that everything happens for a reason is exactly what I'm trying to accomplish this month. What better way to resign oneself to the flow of life then to allow it to grow inside you, nurturing it while at the same time trusting the process and treasuring every moment of it? And the idea of another child means that life has to change, to grow, to expand, ready or not, because it’s supposed to. Because it was meant to. The idea of it is so enticing, but my practical mind knows better.