I should have a newborn. I should be on sick leave (my University doesn’t really have maternity leave for faculty) and tending to my fresh baby.
I should be in my 3rd trimester getting ready for my June due date. This baby’s due date couldn’t have been more perfect. I should be getting all kinds of pregnancy attention from strangers and friends alike. I enjoyed basquing in the limelight when I was pregnant with my daughter, and I loved being pregnant.
I should be 18 weeks and 2 days pregnant. I should be feeling my baby move, and he should be responding to me in utero. I should be enjoying my pregnancy with my best friend who is also pregnant, about 14 weeks by now I believe.
I shouldn’t have medical bills that I don’t understand. I shouldn’t be waiting nervously for late menses so that I can schedule a HSG. In fact, I shouldn’t be having menses at all! I shouldn’t be grieving daily for three lost pregnancies, drinking heavily, sleeping poorly, putting on weight, avoiding exercise, stressing about the past, stressing about the future. This shouldn’t be my life. This shouldn’t be anyone’s life.