I had all day long to blog, with plenty of free time to write something, and here I am with ten minutes left in the day, finally sitting down to blog. Vacations throw me so far off my normal routine that even things I love, like blogging, get neglected.
I’ve been debating what to write about tonight. I have something absolutely perfect for Confession Thursday, but I don’t know that it can wait that long. Maybe I’ll just write about it anyway.
We’ve only been trying to conceive–sort of–for a little over a month, and already I’m starting to feel that incredible jealousy of those who are pregnant. I just found out that a friend of mine is pregnant with her third child, apparently a surprise pregnancy. I was reluctant to comment on her blog when she wrote about it because I was afraid the envy of her would be obvious.
I don’t want to dislike women who are pregnant. I’ve been very blessed already, getting pregnant the first time so easily. Why should I begrudge others getting pregnant at all, even if the kid was unexpected or the conception was easy? Why do I always have to be so special all the time? It’s not good enough that I had one easy conception; I want two, or three. And two years-ish isn’t close enough together; I wanted them a year or less. And I had one easy birth; now I want another. And PJ wasn’t preemie enough for me; if I have to have a preemie, it had better be the life-threatening kind.
I’m hoping I was taking that mindset a little too far there. But I’m afraid I’m not. I’ve always been an all-or-nothing kind of girl. It’s not good enough unless I have the best, or the worst, or any other extreme. Then I feel like I’ve failed if I do something great, but not the best. That’s where this inappropriate envy comes from.
I suppose it’s a good thing that I recognize this trait in myself. I can contain it and laugh it away instead of letting it eat me up. I did finally leave a comment on my friend’s blog congratulating her. It only took me about a week. Eventually my turn will come as well, even if there’s nothing extraordinary about it. At least I can be comforted by the fact that my son truly is the cutest kid ever.