So, a friend of mine from high school is getting married this weekend. Correction in the name of full-disclosure: a guy I was obsessed with in high school is getting married this weekend. But that has nothing to do with the jealousy.
The jealousy is this: a month into my marriage, I got pregnant. My lovely husband and I had never lived in the same city, much less under the same roof, and here we were, less than a year into our marriage with an infant neither of us were really planning on quite this soon.
My parents had 6 years before I was born. My in-laws had a couple years before my husband was born. Why didn’t I say “no” to Matt that morning when I knew full and well that I was too far along in my cycle to safely fool around?
And why am I complaining about this? My parents had six years not because they waited, but because they had fertility issues. I have a friend right now that is putting her body through hell in an effort to conceive. I have other friends who have had more than one miscarriage.
And here I am, an overweight woman (weight affects fertility) who wasn’t even being a good Catholic in my efforts to avoid pregnancy, with an unplanned, but perfectly happy and healthy baby boy.
I guess it boils down to this:
We all have our challenges, we all have our demons. I shouldn’t be jealous of their clean slate. Who knows what they may already have on their plate and what fate plans to throw at them. I hope that their marriage can endure as well as mine has.