someone else's baby.

We went to some friends' for dinner tonight.  The husband is in my husband's class in the Optometry program, and the wife is a friend from a former job (and because our husbands are friends).

The wife and I have known each other for about two and a half years now.  When we first met, we were both in the midst of strong baby desires.  We were fighting them off because our husbands were just beginning their four-year programs, but we both admitted we couldn't help but hope we'd have babies in the near future.  We talked fantasies constantly at work (our offices were joined by a doorway) -- baby names, pregnancy, birth plans, doulas, baby showers, announcements, etc.  Everything.

Her older sister had endured struggles with infertility for three years or so and had basically been told there was nothing more they could try if they weren't interested in attempting IVF.  She wasn't.  The wife and I used to talk about our sympathy for her sister and brother-in-law.  How awful it would be to know you couldn't have your own children.  How hard on a marriage.  How difficult to have to abandon your biggest dream.

Funny looking back.

My husband and I began trying during this time, and although I was acutely aware of the possibility of infertility, I told myself I'd be pregnant very soon.  I didn't tell a single soul we were trying.  No one.  I wanted it to be our secret, and I wanted our joy to be private when it worked.

Instead, though, our friends got pregnant.  First try. 

We had only been trying five or six months, so even though I was jealous, I thought our turn was just around the corner.  But it wasn't.  I watched her pregnancy.  I went to her baby shower.  I met her sweet daughter at the hospital the day after delivery.

And tonight I held the six-month-old baby girl.  I've held her dozens of time in the months since she was born.  But tonight I touched the bottoms of her feet.  I squeezed her little thighs.  We nuzzled our heads together.  And I imagined, for just half a second, what it might feel like to experience all of that -- to make those observations -- with my own baby, whether it be biological or adopted.  My baby.

It was one of those moments that stops your heart for just a moment.  I frequently get those glimpses, and when I do, I can't even distinguish whether they make me happy or sad.

Probably both.