Anonymous

Long, long ago in a lifetime far, far away…

We will call them Laila and Sasha. They are both the heroes in their own stories. They both see the other as one who did the other wrong. In the end, who can say who was right?

Laila and Sasha had been best friends for many years. Good times and bad, thick and thin, laughter and tears. Even moving half a country away couldn’t dampen their friendship. Instant messages, text messages, care packages, long letters and emails… Not a day passed without them exchanging a laugh, a secret, a hope, a dream.

They both shared the same dream: A family. Both were married to men they loved dearly. Both shared their struggles to conceive. Every month, another heartbreak, but there was secret comfort in their shared company.

One summer, two pink lines. Laila told Sasha first. Two weeks later, Sasha had her own set of lines, telling Laila first. There was such joy at the double miracle! Two best friends, two terrible struggles, now celebrating motherhood together with all its joys and hardships. They made plans together, hoped together, dreamed together…

Four weeks later, Laila’s dream ended.

Everything became a blur of emotions. Lines of who was at fault blurred even further.

Laila reached for her best friend in her hour of need. Sasha saw reality in Laila’s plight and pulled away, needing reassurance her own miracle wasn’t in jeopardy. Neither could support the other. Both reached out, but like oil and water, they became jumbled and lost in their good intentions for one another.

The day of the baby shower came. Laila did not attend. It was too painful, she explained, thinking of her own baby who was long forgotten by everyone but herself. Sasha took offense, feeling her own triumphs over infertility were forgotten. It was the turning point of their friendship.

The daily messages trickled to weekly. All talk became related to her pregnancy and the baby. Sasha seemed to forget about Laila’s loss and ignored her attempts to talk about her grief, to acknowledge her baby existed. When Laila suffered another loss after an even shorter pregnancy, Sasha vaguely implied perhaps she was attention-seeking. After all, she could get pregnant, wasn’t that good enough?

Laila stopped reaching out to her altogether.

Sasha’s baby was born healthy and without complication. When Sasha reached out to confirm Laila’s address for the family birth announcement, Laila didn’t immediately respond. Angered, Sasha cut off all contact with Laila.

Her son is a teenager now.

His mother is still angry and won’t respond to messages from Laila.

For many years, Laila blamed herself. Yet as time passed, more friends and acquaintances became mothers. Conversations with her stopped as these people sought other like-minded people—other mothers—to exchange stories of hardship and seek advice. They saw her at best as someone stuck in time, a Lost Girl, trapped in her hobbies. At worst, she was an Unwoman, unworthy of adulthood and unable to advance until she achieved the ultimate goal: Motherhood.

The women around her flocked to birthday parties for their children. “You wouldn’t enjoy it,” they assured her. She longed to continue to be a part of their lives, to bond with their families, to watch their children grow firsthand with the fierce love of a bonus auntie… but with every new child, she was left behind.

“I’m so busy with the kids,” they tell her when she tries to make plans. “My house is a mess!”

“Let me help!” she begs, but they push her away… as they complain they have no one to help them since becoming a parent. Other mothers nod in solidarity.

Life continued. Laila found her people that truly wanted her company. Most of them have no children. Some do, but they are very kind to her. Their little ones and big ones are just as she’d always dreamed… more for her Auntie heart to love.

Deep in her heart, she still loves Sasha’s son, too.

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