A few years ago, I had the TV running in the background when my normal programming was interrupted by the French Open women’s final. I found myself getting sucked in watching Serena Williams rally to win the French Open while fighting the flu, and I’m pretty sure throwing up in a towel.
That got me hooked on tennis and Andy Murray (sorry Dan). I started following multiple tennis players on Instagram and wanted to learn how to play. I won a tennis lesson at an auction over a year ago, but when I finally got around to scheduling my lesson, everything went downhill with my cancer diagnosis and I didn’t get to take my lesson until October this past year. While I would love to continue taking tennis lessons, time and money are always fleeting. Maybe when I retire?
But back to the main subject: Serena Williams. Serena Williams is an amazing woman. She is so strong, talented, and BFF with Beyonce. She was also due to give birth a week after me.
It was painful to see all the media outlets talking about her pregnancy while I was dealing with the loss of our baby and the upcoming loss of my uterus. The wound was ripped open again with the birth announcement of her daughter a week after our due date and finishing chemo instead. She’s back in the news now on the cover of Vogue with her baby and talking about the horrific ordeal she went through after the birth.
While I’m glad the topic of birth complications have been brought back into the conversation, it’s still a little painful to see her as a joyful mother and her smiling daughter. It also makes me think of of my two friends who gave birth to their daughters a month after our due date. I still haven’t spoken to either of them. Short emails and cards were all I could manage. Random thoughts of them and their perfect families pop up into my head, and while I’m extremely happy for them, it makes me sad for the life we don’t have. Jealous even.
Am I a bad person for thinking this? Probably. Why can’t I just be happy for other people? I mean, I get why I can’t be 100% happy, but I would like to be. I want to let last year and all the emotions go. It’s hard to see any family with their kids. I find myself still nodding and smiling when someone brings up someone else’s kid, or quickly scrolling through Instagram when friend’s post their children. I’m hopeful that one of these days that will be Dan and I. And if not, then I hope the pain and sadness go away and we can be 100% content for those who have what we could not.
Am I going to regret being this open about my feelings in the future? Maybe. But this blog was created so I could share my experience as a now 33-year-old woman dealing with cancer and cancer-caused infertility.