Letter to the pregnant women standing next to me at the music festival on the weekend.
This was going to be a tirade, but I didn't want to sound like a sanctimonious git, so I have reflected on my thoughts a day or two and found that under my initial anger and disbelief my true feelings lay here...
I don't hold it against you that you stood next to me with your large, perfectly round pregnant belly. You could not have known that I was in the hell that is the dreaded 2-week-wait.
I don't hold it against you for making eye contact and smiling at me as you apologised for bumping me with your bump. You could not have known that the day was the due date of the baby I miscarried earlier this year.
Nor, do I hold against you the cans of beer you chose to feed to your unborn child. Our mothers may say their doctors advised that a couple of drinks a week would not harm the baby and could help them sleep.
I don't even hold against you that fact that you continued to stand next to your friends while they smoked joint after joint. Perhaps you are unaware of the effects [even passively ingested] of this drug on the developing fetus.
I do not envy you your pregnancy. What i do envy though is your innocence. Your pure, unadulterated confidence that no matter what you do, you will carry your pregnancy to full term and you will give birth to a perfect, healthy baby. Infertility has stolen that from me and my friends, and I wish we could get it back.