On sharing a pregnancy* with your BFF, and what that brings.

The day I found out I was pregnant with Kiera was a day charged with emotional apprehension, fear and uncertainty.  I was convinced that the worst thing in the world that could ever have happened to me had just happened.  I felt like I had been pushed into a corner that was covered in spikes.  I felt terrified that I was forced into a motherhood I wasn’t ready for.  I felt like I’d let my family down and I was sure that my life was actually over.

Until my best friend Britt arrived unannounced.  Not only was she ecstatic for me and said she’d hold my hand through every moment, but she had something else to add.  A best friend for my baby.  She was pregnant too!  We cried and laughed and sobbed and sniveled and smiled.  It was going to be okay.  I was going to be okay.  My best friend was also pregnant and the babies would grow up in each other’s pockets and play house together and go to school together and fight for each other and love each other like their moms did.

While I was in hospitals on bed rest, Britt had a big belly and a proper baby shower and texted me the blow-by-blow encounters and what each present looked like.  I would send her blow-by-blow encounters with the nurses, what my lunch for the day was, and asked her to send me news of our mutual friends.  Britt’s baby came out big and happy and healthy, my baby was tiny and riddled with oxygen pipes.  I actually have a photo of our girls together, hers a newborn and mine 3 months old, but still at least a third of the size of her baby.  We joked that somehow there was a time lapse and that the babies had been switched around.  The difference in scenarios didn’t affect us.  It just meant that we spent a lot more time at my house next to Keira’s oxygen machines, watching way too much TV and cooing over our daughters.

Sadly, as much as we wanted our daughters to grow up being best friends, that didn’t happen.  My daughter didn’t grow up.  She died.  And that could’ve had a ripple effect on mine and Britt’s friendship.  But miraculously, it didn’t.  It only got stronger.  Britt shared her daughter with me and over the last 10 years, my god child has provided so many giggles and laughter and love and filled a little bit of the gap left in the gaping part of my heart.  The other bit was filled by her mom.

Britt was there for me when Kiera died. I was there for Britt when she got married. I was even there (via SMS) for Britt when she went on honeymoon (much to her husband’s absolute delight, I’m sure).

Over the years, we’ve shared every problem, every occasion, every delight, every embarrassment.  And this weekend we shared each other’s company for the WHOLE weekend, for the first time in about ten years.

Nothing has changed, everything has remained, grown, matured.

We’re very lucky to have each other.

I love you Bee.

Britt

 

*Nope, not pregnant again.  Sorry to disappoint 🙂

6 comments

  1. MeeA says:

    Shut up, man, you’re making me cry! 😉

    You are, indeed, incredibly lucky to have such a friend – May it always be so.

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