All My Friends Are Pregnant, and All I Feel Is Fear
I’m not sure what’s scarier: losing touch with my friends when they become parents, or becoming one myself
One of my closest friends told me she was pregnant the other night over taco salads. I imagined us a year from then, sitting in her living room; Her, sitting across from me in her pajamas — her son latched to her breast — resenting me a little for being able to come and go as I please, for not completely understanding what it’s like to have to share my body, to nourish another human with it. She’ll remember that I never really liked kids in the first place (neither of us did for a while there), and wonder if hers is different.
He will be different, I know that already. I’ll love him because he is part of her. He’ll have her nose, her hair. He’s precious. But, even in this imagined future, I don’t know how to express that sufficiently, because I also don’t have the urge to hold him. He’s sweet, but his crying gives me anxiety. I have to be somewhere after this visit and don’t want to get spit up on my dress.
We’ll try to talk. The conversation will be about lack of sleep. I’ll miss our old conversations, but also want to carry a conversation that is relevant to her new life. But I don’t know how. I get plenty of sleep, and suddenly…
