The Trouble With Getting Left Behind

When I was younger, I was always afraid of being last. I lived in perpetually terror of being the last one picked in gym class, the last girl to get a troll doll (looking back, I just don't get that trend), the last friend who could stay home alone. It was okay if I wasn't first as long as I wasn't last.

The fear died down as I made my way through elementary and middle school and then returned in high school as a whole new set of worries overcame me. I didn't want to be the last one to get a first kiss, to get a boyfriend, to lose my virginity. There was something so lonely about the thought of being the only one who hadn't been "in" on the experience. One by one, my friends were becoming privy to knowledge that I was still waiting for.

What did it feel like to be kissed? What was the anticipation like? The bubbles in the belly when a boy asked you to be his girlfriend - what did the bubbles feel like? Was it scary? Intense? No big deal? People can describe their experiences all they want but it does nothing to quell the curiosity in your own mind.

I feel like I'm struggling with that feeling more now than ever before as I navigate the waters of infertility. It can be such a lonely boat to sail on. I know about pregnancy only from stories. I know about being a mother only from my imagination, and my dreams. As there are more announcements, my joy for my friends grows, but the sadness for myself increases.

What if I never know what it's like to see a positive test? Or go to an ultrasound and see an image of a baby that Tom and I created? Or feeling movement inside my belly? Or giving birth? Every negative test I get, I feel further away from that reality.