I guess I can add weddings to the list of things I no longer enjoy. We're going to one tonight, and it should be lovely.
Except: There will be a pregnant chica there, just starting to show, surely announcing the pregnancy to all who haven't yet heard. I'm cringing already at the thought of all of the congratulations, and her glowing happy motherliness, while my still only slightly swollen belly announces my empty uterus to the world.
And then, there's all of the anticipation for the couple embarking on their journey of married life. The expectation that they will conceive, and have a baby (or babies). The happy joking about building a family. The celebration of their future.
And there I'll stand: the cautionary tale. My presence will shout "It doesn't always work out like that. Some people expect it to, and end up with a belly full of sadness". People will avoid me, as if miscarriage is contagious.
I have no doubt that this couple will have a baby before we do. That shouldn't make me sad, or jealous, but it does. It does.
I wish I could fast forward my life.