Damn YOU and Your Good News

Everyone around me is either pregnant or has a new baby. The lady across the street, a new baby girl. The neighbor with whom our backyard shares a common fence and is so open to, due in August. My friend Karen, due in August. Her best friend, and mutual friend of mine, Amy...due in December. Scott's friend, due this fall. Girl I work with, her sister. Alison, whose every Facebook post is about her perfect chubby baby boy and how AWESOME he is. Suddenly everyone in our immediate circle and beyond is moving towards having a baby or has one already and here I am. Not pregnant. No baby in my arms. Starting from stage 0, and grieving hard. I don't know what I did in my life to deserve this. I'm resentful of everyone- EVERYONE who has what I don't have. Even if they've wanted it forever and it was a long road to get there. More so those who got drunk one night long enough to tolerate sex with their husband and got knocked up. "Oh, it was a SURPRISE", they say. I say GO FUCK YOURSELF! My neighbor being pregnant sucks because they are outside ALL the time. So, if we are outside and they are there it's like we are on top of each other. Today at lunch she was out there gardening with her flowing top and her protruding belly. I can't wait for the Saturday or Sunday afternoon when I am accosted with pink and blue balloons and a gaggle of loud women in her backyard as they have her baby shower. And then beyond, as they take their kid outside to play and there it is... in my face. I hate them. And I hate the "oops, look at us, we're pregnant" people. Man, I must have really fucked up in a past life or maybe in this life to have to endure this now.
Yesterday, when it was so nice outside, I told Scott that if Avery were alive I'd be outside with her, in the shade, letting her feel the warm breeze on her perfect face. Letting her smell her first smell of the lilac bush we planted... the sweet scent that was meant to fill her nursery through the open window as she napped. Why do I allow myself to even think that way? To even daydream about what COULD have been. What WOULD have been. What surely SHOULD HAVE BEEN! She's gone to me forever and she's not coming back. And what torture to think about what I'd be doing if she were still with me.

Stop Reading Immediately

I've looked at a few other blogs out there and it would seem that I'm supposed to add pictures of friends in funny hats and me walking my dog in the rain and like... pics of some cupcakes I made last week for my Aunt's birthday. I think I'm supposed to say things to people like, "hey, check out my blog to get the latest updates on my life and family" or "I'm compiling chili recipes for a cookbook I'm writing... you can check it all out on my blog". My BLOG... I would imagine I'd feel so self important directing someone to MY BLOGGGGGG. "I have all these REALLY important things to say but I'm not going to actually tell you about them in person...but you can read it all on MY BLOGGGGGG." But, frankly, that's not me... not in the slightest. Even if my entries didn't turn out to be depressing and dark as they have been in the past several months, I just assume nobody find my blog, ever. I kind of use this thing as a journal because I can type faster than I can write by hand so it just works out. The art of handwriting has died, anyway. I have forgotten how to properly write in cursive; especially caps. There was something funky with a capital Q I remember, or was it Z? That's neither here nor there. My handwriting, once given some care, has become sloppy and lazy; a mix of print and pseudo cursive writing that's so messy it could be assumed that someone wrote it with their feet. Typing works best. But, I kind of think it's funny how we want to make our mark in the world somehow and if we can't make some mark in the real world we'll make our attempts in the cyber world. But, my assumption is that nobody's life is as cool as it looks when they document it in pictures and then collage or slideshow it with the aid of some photo program and slather it all over the front page of their blog and set it to a Dave Matthews song. Whose life WOULDN'T seem cool if it was condensed in such a manner and put to sensitive, pull at your heartstrings Dave music? We've become a nation of look at me, but don't you dare look at me. Online is ok but don't make any real eye contact... or GOD FORBID don't talk to me. I can't give people too much shit for that though, because I'm one who only has so much to give on a personal level and then I want to squirrel myself away in my house and hide from the world. A classic introvert, here. So, I'll never put pictures from my childhood of me on my Big Wheel or of me pulling my lower lip down to show my first lost tooth. I'm not going to post pictures of my pets or my new garden or me washing my car or the steak I BBQ'd last night. And I'm never referring anyone to MY BLOGGGG so that they can read up on the inner workings of my mind. I write because for a brief moment I feel inspired and then it's over... and I feel better for the mental release. If you have come upon this blog, do yourself a favor and stop reading it immediately. It will be a boring waste of your time, I assure you. And I don't want to be responsible for the annoyance you feel when you realize you could have been kissing your dog or watching Modern Family but instead were reading drivel.