I am an awful person.
A terrible horrible awful person.
Today, I saw a family I cared for at work quite a bit when I was pregnant with Jonathan. They were a beautiful, fun couple with a son whose due date had been the same as Jonathan. Unfortunately for them, their son was born at 23 weeks gestation. He had been terribly sick, with significant respiratory issues. He went home with a tracheotomy, a ventilator, and home care nursing 24 hours a day. Their road had been nothing short of a nightmare, I am sure.
I remember during the last stages of my pregnancy I took care of them often. They were always so lovely and encouraging. This family was even still on our unit when I came back to work. And I remember feeling slightly guilty that I had this 'perfect baby' and they had all the trials and frustrations while fighting for their son's life.
Today they came to visit. Their son is beautiful and perfect, a miracle of modern medicine. Nut brown curly hair, a quick smile, big brown eyes. He ran around our lobby area as his parents talked to us about him. He has some remaining medical issues, but overall is progressing very well and by all appearances is developing on schedule.
And when his mom said "oh yes, we figure he says about 80 words", my heart went still. I excused myself from the group and left. I am an awful person for the jealousy and anger and sadness I felt hearing their joy. If any family deserves a good outcome it is them. And I wouldn't wish our struggles on anyone. Nor would I even suggest that what they went through was easier, or better, or preferable.
But I still suck. I am still jealous of his 80 words, his engagement and flirting, his ease with the world. And I am sad that I have become this person... this green-eyed monster momma.