Guilty

Recently a good friend at work confided that she was eleven weeks pregnant. My friend has had two miscarriages in the last two years, so she held off until she was sure before telling anyone.

This friend is a little bit of a frienemy, we compete a bit and she likes to act tough and shoot me down when she can, but overall I respect her and want the best for her. So when she told me she was pregnant, I was totally excited for her, and somehow felt more courageous - now there would be two executive women running all over the country with giant bellies. We talked about how fun it would be to work out together and compare doctor's appointments and planned to re-arrange our work so we could cover for each other's FMLA.

The next day, I was writing on the whiteboard in my office and she took a marker and wrote, simply, "NO baby." and then shut the door and cried for twenty minutes. It broke my heart. The baby had not survived and she had an empty sac, nothing living inside. She would have a D&C the next day.

And so I found myself at my four-month appointment, listening to my baby's heartbeat, while my friend was in the same office complex having a completely different experience. I couldn't stop crying from gratitude, and some odd guilt that my little speck appears to  be fine. Now when I see her at work the last thing I want to talk about is any symptom or happy complaint about my clothes not fitting. I want to focus completely on work, and she seems to feel the same way. For a few minutes, and a couple of days, we were intimate; first in joy and then in sorrow, but now, shields are back up and we're two smart fast-paced executives, passionate only about our jobs.