This post started as an idea here. It isn’t even really about Lori. And it’s not even about abortion. This post is about me. Lori’s post bought something so sharply to the surface that I had to address it here, in my place, for handling such things. As I sat in a cafe reading Lori’s experience, my overwhelming emotional response was resentment*. My thoughts were clouded by resentment. Single-minded in their focus. Resentment pounded loudly in my ears until I had tears prickling my eyes.

But you see, at the moment, resentment isn’t saved for one topic or person in particular. I resent anyone who falls pregnant easily. I resent people falling pregnant at all. I resent people who successfully carry babies. I resent people with children. I resent being told I’m next. The other day I resented someone who had been trying for kids almost as long as we have for falling pregnant BEFORE I did. Even six months ago, I would have celebrated a victory like that. Now, I resent it.  I resent people. Full stop. 

Three years trying for a baby is as far as I could make it without being overwhelmed by it. Resentful. FULL of resent. Full of bullshit anger at anyone who mentions a onesie. I narrow my eyes and DARE THEM to say something. For me, resentment comes right alongside anger. Impatience went out the door ages ago, and now I’m dealing with the big fat what if. What if it NEVER happens for me. I’m told it’s a grieving process. One of the stages. One of letting go. And we all know how hard it is for me to let go.

And it occurred to me, as I read Lori’s post, that resentment is a little bit disgusting. I sat there close to tears with frustration thinking of pregnancies, babies, abortions, losses, big happy families. And for a moment, I could almost make myself believe that there were fewer babies out there, fewer chances for me—a chance taken. A chance lost. I willed myself to believe this, mostly so I could be angry. So I could place my anger on someone else’s shoulders. It was THEIR fault I hadn’t had my chance. THEY TOOK IT. They stole it from me, and that chance is gone.

But I couldn’t make myself believe it; I believe in an infinite universe, and I believe in opportunity. So resentment can come. Anger can come. Whatever else that this process has for me can come. And I will keep a watchful eye out for my window of opportunity even if it has a crack—my chance. And until then, I will be honest with my feelings in the same way Lori was open about hers. Not to say it’s right or wrong, but to say it is what it is. Then maybe someone, somewhere, won’t feel alone in their experience.

Or maybe, you’ll resent me for saying it. That’s ok too.

*I love Lori, have read her blog for a million years, don’t mistake what I am saying for what you think I am saying. That’s important.   


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