You’re not supposed to hate people.
Like, in real life.
But when it comes to celebrities, all bets are off. You can be as snarky and ungenerous as you want. (Isn’t that what celebrities are there for? To be the punching bags on which to take out our insecurities and aggression?)
Which is why, when I saw the headline, “SNOOKI IS PREGNANT!!” on the cover of People magazine at the Barnes and Noble checkout counter, I managed an eye roll to the cashier and sarcastically remarked, “That just shouldn’t even be legal.”
Inside, though, I wasn’t snarking at all. Instead, I was startled to feel a familiar, heavy sadness…
My husband and I experienced a late and traumatic pregnancy loss two and a half years ago. This loss was followed by a year and a half of trying and failing to get pregnant again. Seeing as there’s a newsstand on practically every corner in New York City, each new celebrity pregnancy headline since then has felt like an unavoidable stab in the gut.
J. Lo, Mariah, Padma, Penelope, Pink. Every glowing, sun-glassed, baby-bumped front cover hurled my own inability to conceive back into my face. In my mind, the headlines may as well have read:
Getting pregnant is easy!
Any bimbo with a uterus can do it!
Everyone else can have a healthy baby and you can’t!
I just couldn’t shake the image of train after train leaving the station, happy lives hurtling forward… and me left on the platform over and over again.
My response during this time to “in-real-life” pregnancy announcements were mixed. They all stung to some degree, but somehow you just can’t let yourself hate your cousins, your friends, your co-workers… But I could and did let myself hate Amanda Peet and Alicia Keys.
My son was born six and a half months ago, and I’ve spent every moment since his birth feeling grateful and blessed. Yet somehow that headline in Barnes and Noble took me straight back to the daily grief I carried for all of those months. Maybe there’s a part of me that will always feel angry and sad whenever I hear about some new celebrity pregnancy. I hope not.
Either way, I’m going to try not to spend any more energy hating fertile famous people. Instead, I’ll try to let my feelings serve as a reminder to tread gently through this world, cognizant that one person’s happy news may trigger another’s unseen pain.
Thanks, Snooki, for giving me a chance to think through all that. And really, I wish you the best.
Writing Me Home 
I could feel your pain as I read your post, brought tears to my eyes. I appreciated your honesty and felt a sense of relief to read on and find out you have a son.
Writing can be very healing and its looks as if that’s what happened here with you.
“one person’s happy news may trigger another’s unseen pain” so true, that. I liked that “fertile famous people” line relieved some of the sadness (for me it did, not sure if that’s what you intended though).
It is what I intended. 🙂 Thanks for reading… and leaving a kind comment.
marika
Since I think you read my post a few days ago – I will say I want to acknowledge your pain, your joy, your reflections and hope you understand what I’m trying to communicate.
(You changed your blog! Fun to do hunh! I noticed your Wendell Berry quote the first time I visited your blog – a favorite of mine.)
Thanks for acknowledging… 🙂 (I’m still trying to figure out what this blog is, and how it should look…)
I checked back tonight because your reply has inspired my post for tomorrow – as well as a comment a friend made to me today about how my entries were so personal – that’s the point isn’t it? – anyway….. You made another little change to the look of your blog and I really like it. Goes with your title! So look for your blog to be referenced tomorrow – day 10!
“I just couldn’t shake the image of train after train leaving the station, happy lives hurtling forward… and me left on the platform over and over again.”
Wow, very strong imagery.
You wrote your heart on the page. I was so relieved to hear of the birth of your son.
Isn’t it wierd how the news of Snooki could take you back to old feelings?
Oh, check out my blog. We must think alike. I have the same design 🙂 I was changing mine every day or so. Couldn’t decide if I was an italics person or a big bold typeface one.
Kiss your baby for me, please.
Thank you for leaving your blog post link with your comment on my blog post about Aidan. You and I should talk more. You can email me at Jessica.whitmore (at) gmail (.) com. I completely understand your thinking and what you want to scream to the world. It took me a long time after Aidan to hold a baby, I still dread baby showers, I dread seeing Facebook posts about friends who are finding out whether they are having a boy or girl (my first thought is …is the baby healthy who cares if it is a boy or girl). Anyway, even nine years later I still find myself grieving my first son. Eve with two healthy sons since then. It never goes away. It is a part of who we are. The grief just changes a bit. Please email me so we can chat further. I would love to hear more of your story and I’m so sorry! Jessica
Not sure where I want my response to go. Thank you for sharing something so close to the bone and so thoughtful. And I’m so happy you were able to get on that train and that your son is in your life. And I am sincere in saying that … and I’m also sitting with my feelings right now as I continue to struggle with accepting my permanent residence on that platform.