I would never wish this on any one, this level of pain. Not even on people I dislike or consider to have been an enemy in life. This is a level of heartache and adjustment I wouldn’t want for anyone to bare, if it could be avoided. I have very much appreciated the connections I have made with those who have also suffered the pain of loss, but I don’t hope for new members to this club. Especially among those I love and care about.

When I was young, just 17. I had a friend. At the time I called her my best friend. She was a little bit older, but not by much. She had started to date an older married man. She definitely had a flare for the dramatic. Her life played out a bit like a soap opera at times. A mother who was a therapist, and yet herself quite odd, idiosyncratic, and at times a little crazy. A stoically disengaged retired military father, who was a math teacher at an air force prep school. An older brother who was consumed – still in adult life – with smoking pot and playing dungeons and dragons on his parents couch.

She was in complete lust with this older man and the drama that was the life she intended to have with him. A seedy affair, that would hopefully cultivate into him choosing her, and ultimately them living happily ever after. In knowing him, I just knew he was not the happily ever after type, nor was he worth more than some good times….in my opinion. And even that, seemed like playing with fire.

I tell you this because in the throws of this relationship she got “pregnant”. Leading up to this announcement there were many nights of her crying that he was never going to leave his wife and me saying probably not and we are too young for this anyway. And then she came to me, NOT with a pregnancy test in hand, but with an announcement. She was gonna have his baby. This was thrilling news to her. She was winning. She also looked the most psychotic I had seen her, probably ever. This was a young woman who had battled OCD, anorexia and bulemia, anxiety, and severe self esteem issues. While her public persona was arrogant and wistful, her private life was a mess. And maybe I’m the only one who knew it at the time, she told me everything, but I don’t know.

Yet, it wasn’t until this moment that her eyes looked as though she had discovered the ultimate drug. She was intoxicated by the idea that she was going to break up a marriage and embark on a “family” at the ripe old age of 18. I, on the other had, was shocked. I was sad for her. I said “oh, wow, are you going to keep the baby?” I didn’t think this was a good thing. They weren’t married, he was but not to her. They weren’t living together. They hadn’t completed any advanced education, yes he was a soldier, but a half assed one at best. They had no plan.

I realize this sort of thing happens to people all the time and they live through it, they work it out, they succeed. But since the first time I met this girl in gray sweatpants with a raspy “I just smoked” voice in the back of my Advanced Placement literature class my junior year of high school, nothing had ever “worked out” for her. She intrigued me then, and now, as she crazily professed her future life goals to become a baby factory for a man who had no interest in her babies. When we met, an out-of-the-box friend is just what my fragile high school life was calling for. But it changed my trajectory…and that is a story for another time…maybe.

For now, I will explain that she went for a couple of months acting tired and sick and miserable. Because she was “pregnant.” From my view though, she seemed a lot the same. She had always slept during the day, stayed up at weird hours, thrown up regularly, and had stomach problems. This was a day in her life…it seemed the normal. Her family had rallied, maybe a little more quickly than it seemed they should have, around this new plan. And the paperwork for divorce had begun. Wedding planning was even underway and I was asked to be the maid-of-honor. Um, ok. I am so happy for you…on the outside. On the inside I thought this is insane. He was not a good guy, not good to her, and obviously capable of cheating. She was mentally unstable, immature, and motivated by all the wrong things. She had other options, none she would entertain. I asked her if she had thought about them. Oh no, she couldn’t give away her baby, their baby.

All the while, I wondered if any of this was real. She was so disconnected with reality at times, I thought it was very possible this was a completely fabricated drama or at the very least a “keep this guy” purposeful “accident.” I don’t mean to think the worst of people, generally. But even a young naive me could see she was detached from the reality that serious problems and hardships were about to become her real life!

It was maybe 6 weeks after her announcement, if that, that she called me over to her parents garage. A place where we frequently sat in camp chairs and puffed down Marlboro Lights. A bad habit I had developed during these “interesting” years of my life. There hadn’t been any cigarettes for her since the discovery of a fertilized egg. She was smoking. First sign. She had been crying, a lot. Second sign. She looked like hell. Third sign. These things were all fairly normal for her…but on this day it was different.

I came in worried. What was wrong, are you ok? What’s going on?

Through uncontrollable sobs she told me she had miscarried the night before. There was a somewhat disgustingly detailed story that followed. This needed to be presented as real as possible.

At first I was appropriately upset alongside her, I think. However the chorus in my head was singing Hallelujah, maybe we dodged this bullet. Again, on some level I am ashamed to admit these thoughts. I know this is a real tragedy when life is lost. Parts of you go away and never come back. The reality of miscarriage is, it sucks! Even if you didn’t really think you wanted a baby in your life. It is a loss, there is grief.

I coddled her and in a ridiculously insensitive attempt to soothe her, I mentioned maybe this isn’t terrible, because she wasn’t really that ready and now they could really think about what made sense. She did NOT appreciate this perspective. She immediately responded that they were still planning to get married. I seemed surprised. I tried not to. But a problem I have always had, my face doesn’t lie. Even if my words are saying something else, you know right where I stand by looking at my face. She was mad, she wanted me to go. It was then that I realized I had gotten tied up into something unhealthy. I was just the “best” friend and “maid-of-honor,” but I was intertwined in this drama in many ways. I really didn’t need to take this drama with me. I really didn’t understand how this had become partly my problem. I looked at her angry face. Her eyes said “do what I say, “ and “accept me,” and “you know you have nothing else.” And for a moment I almost did. But I had pulled myself out of the trenches of loneliness before and what I knew was I didn’t NEED anyone who didn’t think I was a good person with good intentions.

I looked at her and said, I don’t think you are making good choices. I am not sure what I believe has even happened to you. But you are getting your way in something that seems insane. As your friend, I cannot stand beside you and say I agree with the choice you are making to marry someone who is not good to you or for you. I cannot be your maid-of-honor.

Looking back, a friend maybe would have stuck around. Stood by her through all the terrible decisions. Being available to help her when the down times came. But I could not. I did not.

The reason for this story is this moment that followed. She looked at me with sheer disdain in her eyes, burning through me to the point I had to look away, and then I will never forget the words she said:

“I hope one day this happens to you, I hope you have a miscarriage so you can know this pain!”

It was a verbal punch in the gut, or maybe a slap across the face…or both. She wished me terrible pain and loss. It was in that moment that I felt convinced this “pregnancy” was never real. And since then, I have felt the same way as I have met many people who have suffered through the inability to carry a child to term. This is a level of heartache you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy, let alone the person you call your best friend.

I cannot not know that specific pain. But I have now learned the pain of loss.

What I would like, and maybe what she really meant in that moment, is for people to have the opportunity to step into a machine, or put on a space aged helmet and to literally feel this for just a moment, or an hour. Just for the purposes of understanding. Just really feel the level of pain I have endured, struggled through, loathed, and survived over the last year plus. I would not want them to lose anyone, or have to bare the pain long, just a glimpse. And only if they chose the opportunity.

I don’t need people to have been in this boat to be by my side, and to love me. In fact, there is some solace in knowing this isn’t everyones reality. But there are times people say, I have no idea, I can’t imagine, I know this must be awful. The only way to get an idea of the difficulty is to live it. I truly hope they never know. I so appreciate that they accept they cannot know and yet want to understand anyway.

But what happened? I know you are asking…

The story goes – they married, they fought, they divorced. It was mostly terrible. There was a lot of aggression, and pain. Fortunately they never had any kids. I lived on the outskirts of most of it. Was not invited to the wedding, but kept in casual touch otherwise. She did meet Tony when our relationship was young and she was newly divorced. Then our lives drifted completely apart. Rumor has it, she moved South and married a game warden. They have two daughters.