Ready, Set, Bitch
For the first time since we lost Nick, someone in my actual vicinity is pregnant. Someone I work with, whom I have to see every day, someone who is "hormonal" as another peer thoughtfully pointed out.
Rumors had been circulating that she was "trying". Today, I got the news.
"I'm pregnant! Only about 11 weeks or so... my first appointment is in two weeks! I'm so excited! I just want to know that everything is okay."
I mean sure. Why not. At least 150 lbs overweight. Not the sharpest tool in the shed. No education to speak of. Makes the lowest hourly wage we offer. She's a good 10 years younger than me. With a two year old. Who doesn't sleep. And drives her up the proverbial wall. She complains about him so much I can't fathom how she's going to deal with a newborn.
A newborn.
Yes. Most babies live.
Just not mine.
I look at my sweet Nicholas' picture here on my desk. He is so beautiful; perfect in every way. Why couldn't I have him?
I think about this ignorant bitch getting an effortless wish granted, and I'm seething with hate.
I am so fucking sick of crying. I've got nothing left but bitter tasting tears and complete ambivalence about everything.
I wonder when I'll just get a grip and move on.
Rumors had been circulating that she was "trying". Today, I got the news.
"I'm pregnant! Only about 11 weeks or so... my first appointment is in two weeks! I'm so excited! I just want to know that everything is okay."
I mean sure. Why not. At least 150 lbs overweight. Not the sharpest tool in the shed. No education to speak of. Makes the lowest hourly wage we offer. She's a good 10 years younger than me. With a two year old. Who doesn't sleep. And drives her up the proverbial wall. She complains about him so much I can't fathom how she's going to deal with a newborn.
A newborn.
Yes. Most babies live.
Just not mine.
I look at my sweet Nicholas' picture here on my desk. He is so beautiful; perfect in every way. Why couldn't I have him?
I think about this ignorant bitch getting an effortless wish granted, and I'm seething with hate.
I am so fucking sick of crying. I've got nothing left but bitter tasting tears and complete ambivalence about everything.
I wonder when I'll just get a grip and move on.
3 Comments:
I don't know if one "moves on", but they carry on and I think that's what you have been doing, though it may be with a much heavier load than most.
I use to take for granted the term "we're trying". No more. I even use to say, we're trying. Now we say, "we're struggling" because it's not a matter of "trying".
I don't think the reaction to pregnant people will ever be the same. Not in a million time-heals-all-wounds years.
I never got a fraction of the fuck yous the universe handed you and still snarl at pregnant women. But only when I see them. I don't imagine pregnant women to snarl at.
May you find the strength to tolerate her and the will power to only frighten her a few times before the end of the gestation.
It certainly does sound as if that is what I'm saying.
I apologize for any misunderstanding.
PS - "you are" = you're
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