When you think you have moved on from the loss of an unborn child, you can let your guard down and be blindsided by the little things. The jealousy that creeps up has been hardest for me to deal with - you know the kind - a friend finding out the gender of her baby, overhearing a stranger's pregnancy announcement at the table next to you in a restaurant, seeing a family with four kids all close in age (even if they are pummeling each other and yelling as they cross the parking lot). It is all very confusing. I don't feel the grief and sorrow from the first week, but instead I feel the frustration of why not me?
I don't think you have to have experienced miscarriage to relate to this. You can simply wish you were in another phase of life: married, making babies, building white picket fences, hanging out at a friend's lake house on the weekends, or taking your third major ski vacation of the year, etc. We always want what other people have, and when we have tasted it, the desire can be even more infectious. I have learned in the past couple days that fist shaking, pouting, and snide comments do not bring restoration. For instance, when Joe asks during our hike in the mountains if I am doing okay or need more water and I respond, "I'm fine. It's not like I'm pregnant or anything", I am not exactly aiding in emotional healing, even if I am only joking around.
The only thing that ever successfully combats envy is gratitude. It sounds trite, but a grateful heart has no room for envy. Sure, a grateful heart can still experience relapses of pain and sorrow and sometimes need space from the reminders of a loss, but it does not brew bitterness and disdain towards others. I have been attempting to count my blessings and genuinely be thankful for what I have been given. I believe that for many of us happiness is a choice that hinges on how we approach life and what we've been given. Joy, on the other hand, is inevitable for a heart that is grateful no matter what trials and struggles come its way.
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