The Hubs' ex-girlfriend is pregnant.
We found out a while ago but I have been thinking about it a lot lately. Obviously. I don't really know this chick. She dated Hubs in college for two years then broke up with him in the winter of our senior year, just in time for me to meet and fall in love with him. Their relationship wasn't great and I have no doubt that Hubs is happy things turned out the way they did.
We haven't spoken about this and I know he would assure me that it's not the case, but doesn't there have to be some part of him that wonders "what if"? If he would have ended up with this ex-girlfriend of his, he'd be on his way to being a father. He wouldn't be consoling his depressed wife every week about her bum ovaries. He'd be painting a nursery and putting together a crib. He'd be reading daddy-to-be books and making guesses on the gender of his first child.
And even if he didn't end up with ex-girlfriend, there has to be a part of him that is disappointed in me. Not in the way that you're disappointed when someone didn't do the dishes or who let you down in some way, but in the small voice in the back of your head that you try to bury. "What if?" What if he had found someone just as great as me, with just as good chemistry and connection, who loved him just as much, but who didn't have premature ovarian failure? Why did it have to be me? His sperm analysis was fantastic. The guy has super swimmers. Why doesn't he get to be a dad?
Because of me. Because my body isn't doing what a woman's body is designed to do.
I am trying desperately to keep my head above water dealing with my own disappointment in myself. When I start to think about how I am letting Hubs down too, it's crushing.
The thing is, he would never admit to ever second guessing his choice to be with me. Ever. But I can't imagine it's not there.