She crept in so sneakily, I didn't even notice she had arrived. She found little crevices and cracks, open and unattended. As round two announcements came, she grew, little by little.
I don't even know that I want what she pines for. Why does she even have a place in my life?
She is unwelcome. Her name is Bitterness.
I thought she was banished away for good when the aching arms were filled and the childless woman became a mother.
Everything about my family is just right for now. Dare I say parenting a single child teeters on the border of being "easy?" Who would want to change that? And if I admitted I wanted to, I feel like that makes me fifty shades of ungrateful for the miracle that has already happened in our lives once before.
But tonight I noticed she had arrived. Still just a spark, not yet a flame, but present just the same. When I should have been saying, "Congratulations," I found myself backing into a corner and putting up my walls. Don't say a word, don't acknowledge the pain of having no control.
So now I grab her and say, Leave, you have no place here. I replace her lies of comparison, jealousy and incompleteness with truth.