My how the tables have turned! It seems just a few short months ago that I was complaining about the complainers. You know, the ones lamenting about their stretch marks and morning sickness: nails grating on the chalkboard of my unpregnant belly.
I have gained some sympathy for the women I secretly tried not to envy. You see, pregnant women have a secret. We can be oblivious to all but the growing life inside of us. It is so easy to complain when you feel sick every moment of every day and your piles of laundry mock you from your perch on the couch. The only part of my body that seems to work lately is the finger that presses the buttons on the remote. Any more movement than that and I may have to take a nap. I have even found myself complaining to people that I know are struggling. Hurting from their own fertility issues, marital problems, even previous miscarriages. Who AM I?!
Well, I am human. The farther I get into this pregnancy the more aware I am that I am just like most other moms-to-be. I definitely have a faster stop-talking-alarm than most, but I want it to be even more sensitive. It's been so easy to get lost in the bliss/misery combination that is pregnancy, but I don't want to be callous to those suffering from true anguish. After all, I was there not too long ago. I've prayed that God use my losses for good; listening empathetically while quashing my complaints is just one way I can help make sure of it.