To bris or not to bris, that was the question

One of my good friends who was pregnant had her son last week and the bris was this weekend. It took place in another state, so we had every excuse not to go. This is my friend who has been so gracious about being pregnant while we are not pregnant and fear that we may never again be pregnant, so I knew she in particular would understand if we declined.

So I thought about it, and Will and I talked about it. He said he'd rather be shot in the head than have to go.

Ok, it was fairly clear how Will felt about it...

I, on the other hand, surprised myself by wanting to make an appearance and show our love and support. This woman is my closest friend from my PhD program. I wanted her to know we are happy for her, even as we ache for ourselves. And actually I thought a bris might be a fairly protected way to do this. There would be the buffer of a lot of people so I wouldn't have to interact too much if I couldn't handle it. If I started to cry during it, people would just think I was being sensitive to the pain of their little boy.

Also, on a level not about my friend, I thought it was important to go. As our infertility journey has gone on and on, we have shrunk away from so many friends who we used to enjoy seeing, stopped going to events that we used to participate in. As all of our friends have gone on to have children, we have become increasingly withdrawn, and increasingly sad. I wanted to try to go to this event, because it is the first of many milestone events for my friend with her son. And if I skipped this one, it would be easy to skip the next one, and then the next one, and then...before I know it, it will be much harder to break the pattern of avoidance and see this friend, keep her in our lives, not conflate my pain with her joy but rather try to let both exist - one not spoiling the other.

We ended up deciding to go, and I'm glad we did, even though it was super hard for Will. We made a weekend of it, finding a boxer-friendly hotel and staying overnight in this other city. For Will, though, seeing the grandparents there, and hearing the special prayers said at the bris for them, nearly brought him to his knees with the grief that his father will never meet our children, that he will not have his father's presence and support. This first holiday season is a difficult one without Will's father. Compounded too by our seeming inability to move forward toward building our family.

We both feel it was the right thing to go, but there is so much sadness and longing over here in the Mo and Will household. We can only hope for happier days ahead.

Mo

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