I met up with the friend I blogged about last time. She like she'd had her soul ripped out. She's usually very funny and sociable, but was obviously not really wanting to talk to people, or to appear in photos. Because, yes, it was a big family-type event. And even non-infertiles were remarking at the number of babies.
I chatted to her a bit - I can't remember if she brought the IF gig up or I did, but it's obviously sitting on her shoulders really heavily right now. She said she hates it when people ask if they have any kids, and that it really hurts.
She's also way braver than me in that she makes a massive effort to interact with other babies, including the Boy. I think I would (in fact, I know I would) have avoided every baby in the room.
We sent them flowers, I've listened and talked. I know that's a big thing, really. My friends who talked to me when I was going through IF (including this particular friend), who acknowleged how relentlessly shit the whole thing was, who just provided an outlet for the whole torrent of misery that otherwise I would have internalised, they really kept me going.
But it seems like such a tiny little thing. Beyond anything, I just really, really wish I could make her hurt go away. That I could just skip back in time, somehow make her first pregnancy go okay, and erase her bad experiences from time. Or I could go forward, and let her know that it will be okay at the end of this horrendous period in her life.
I'd swap almost anything to stop anyone I love hurting the way I hurt after my miscarriages.