It's Not as Glamourous as You Think...

We all know that the summer nights have very little of interest to watch on TV.  For that reason, my husband and I often find ourselves watching repeats of things which we have already seen.  Old episodes of Law and Order: SVU. Two and a Half Men and the Big Bang Theory occupy our evenings after the children are asleep.  Lately, we have rediscovered Friends.

I have all 1o seasons on DVD, and this is a show which is near and dear to both of us; so many of our earliest relationship memories revolve around this show.  The episodes which are currently airing are depicting Phoebe's triplet pregnancy, and I'm finding it really hard to deal.

I'll admit, I laughed right along with the rest of America when Phoebe carried her brother's children and gave birth to them.  Her brother, Frank, announcing, "My sister's having my baby!!!!!", is still one of my favorite Friends moments of all time; however,  the episodes that follow are painfully difficult to watch.  

It seems that multiple births are so glamorized these days.  The triplet ogres in Shrek, there are triplet boys in Brave, John and Kate Plus 8, Table for 10, Quints By Surprise, we are all obsessed with multiples.  But for some of us, this is not an oddity, not something at which we should gawk and whisper as the family passes by.  For some of us, this is life, it is real, it is everyday, and we would not have it any other way... almost.

If I could change one thing about my life, it would be to have Boe here.  It would be to have my group of 3 intact, whole... complete.  From the moment we found out there were 3 of them, that's how we planned, that's what we envisioned for ourselves; 3 little princes with one princess to preside over them.

Alas, that is not what the Lord had in store for us, and we have honestly made our peace with that fact.  It does not change the fact that there is forever a piece missing and that to have that missing piece so frivolously thrown in our faces stings, just a bit.

To watch Phoebe joke about carrying a litter and eating for three, to see her hold all three of them at once and speak words of love and inspiration to all three is like a knife in my heart.  I no longer laugh when I see this; I turn the channel and try not to cry.  Instead of holding all three at once, I held one and cried for him, and I held the other two and told them about their other brother.  A brother with whom they spent so much time in such close proximity, but would never get to wrestle with or play.  A brother who gave up so much so that they may thrive.  A little boy who is so deeply cherished and missed, a little boy  who makes it impossible for me to laugh at the cavalier manner in which multiple pregnancies are displayed.  

It's not all laughs and silly Phoebe'isms, people.  It really happens, sometimes things go wrong, and it really sucks.  Sometimes people stop laughing, so why does everybody else still think it's so funny?