Warning: The post “I’m jealous of Bridget Jones” contains spoilers and is about baby loss.
It is 23:00 on Saturday evening and I’m sitting here wiping the tears from my face. Because I’ve just finished watching Bridget Jones’ Baby and now I’m filled with a mixture of emotions.
If you haven’t seen it. Then do. It’s a bloody brilliant film. And hopefully, it won’t make you cry like I have.
Yet, I was watching the film and I couldn’t help myself. The tears began to fall. And I was jealous. I was jealous of Bridget Jones.
Not because of Mark Darcy. Or her gift for public speaking. I was jealous of her pregnancy.
I’m Jealous Of Bridget Jones
In the film, Bridget Jones has a normal and healthy pregnancy. She has her worries. For she is, after all, Bridget Jones. But she doesn’t worry that she will lose the baby. There never seems to be a moment when she is scared that she is carrying a baby that she will never get to meet.
I knew that feeling once. For a few weeks. Because for a few weeks, I did have a normal pregnancy. My first pregnancy. It was the kind of pregnancy, where you see the positive result, and all your insides leap for joy. And you are suddenly overcome by love for the little dot inside you.
A pregnancy where you rub your stomach adoringly and whisper words of love to your unborn child. You make promises about the kind of mother you want to be. And you make plans for your new family. You begin to imagine what it will feel like to hold your baby. To smell their head and to touch their soft cheek. To breathe them in.
Then you go for your 12-week scan and like Bridget Jones you are full of hope and excitement. You’re desperate to see your healthy baby. To get that first wonderful glimpse of the beautiful child inside you. The human that you’re growing.
But with my first pregnancy, we didn’t get to the 12-week scan. Instead, I had a scan at 11 weeks and discovered that our baby had died in my womb at 6 weeks. And although my body still thought that it was 11 weeks pregnant, there was no heartbeat. Our little dot was forever a little dot.
And from that day on everything changed. When the time came for us to try again. I was nervous. But thankfully, our second pregnancy was successful. And I gave birth to our daughter in 2013.
My third. fourth and fifth pregnancies had similar endings to the first. Four miscarriages. Four eternal dots.
And then when I was pregnant a sixth time, I wasn’t able to feel joy. Momentary hope and happiness were dashed away by fear. I was scared that if I felt happy about the pregnancy then the story would end the same. Another little dot to hold in my heart and not in my arms.
And now as I write this, I know that my pregnancy days are behind me. It is a decision that I know is right. But part of me longs to be pregnant again. I yearn for a happy and healthy pregnancy. How I would love to experience a Bridget Jones pregnancy. To be able to feel overwhelming love for the child growing in my belly. To look at the positive test result and to be overcome by joy instead of anxiety.
So yes, I’m jealous of Bridget Jones. In truth, I’m jealous of anyone who has had that pregnancy. But perhaps no one has had that pregnancy. It could be that every pregnant woman feels anxious and worried. That they hold back from hoping and from dreaming about having a baby in their arms. Because they fear what could happen. Yet, like so many things in life we just don’t talk about it. Why I don’t know. Maybe we worry that if we voice our concerns, it makes us a bad person or an unfit mother. Bullshit. It makes us human to have these fears and these worries. It makes us parents.
To worry about your child starts from the moment you start trying for a baby. The initial worry of whether you’ll be able to get pregnant. This is then followed by concern about whether the baby will be okay. Then once they are born we worry about EVERYTHING.
But not Bridget Jones. Her life is written in a book and in a script. It is in black and white. Certain. Absolute.
And maybe that is what I’m jealous of. I wish that I’d known that my last pregnancy was going to be okay. I wish that I’d been to the 12-week scan and savoured every moment of it. How I wish that I’d rubbed my belly and whispered words of love to our son. Rather than pleas for him to be okay.
I wish I could do it all again.
If you’re pregnant after baby loss, then The Miscarriage Association has produced a leaflet to help you through such an anxious time. You can read it here. You also might find my post How To Survive Pregnancy After Baby Loss helpful.