I saw my friend today who I have been successfully avoiding since Christmas. We were due the same day, but as I'm sure you can guess, unlike mine, her pregnancy ended in a beautiful baby girl. KJ and I were out yard saleing, a weekend hobby of ours, and there was a sale at the house across from hers. She was there, of course, and immediately started gushing about how wonderful the end of her pregnancy was, her labor, and having a new born was. Well, just in case you were wondering, it was amazing, apparently. She also couldn't help but tell me, in full detail, what a beautiful moment it was when she held her daughter for the first time. Oh wait, you really didn't want to know that? Funny, neither did I!
AaaaaHhhhh!!!!!!!
I had been doing so well! Why the eff did this day have to happen??
Then, this evening, KJ and I went to a cook out at his cousin's house. We had gone to their Christmas party this past December, also, and at the time I was blissfully 9w PG. There was another couple at that party with a 6m old. All I could think the whole time was that at Christmas time the next year, that would be us with a 6m old baby. Well, the same couple was at the cookout tonight and she is now 3m PG. She wasn't flaunting it or anything, thank god, but she did mention that she couldn't have any of the alcoholic Irish Car Bomb cupcakes that I made. I felt overwhelming jealous of her situation, 2u2 on the way. If I could have kept my first baby, I would have a 6m old by now and maybe even been PG again. That should have been me...
I hate feeling this way...
Lots of Love,
KJsbabe
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