My Mom always told me that things look brighter in the morning. Maybe it was the only way she could get me to stop moping about whatever was eating at me long enough to get me to finish my homework and go to bed, but whatever the case, it always seemed that she was right.
And it still holds true.
I feel much better today, and honestly I'm a little embarrassed by my rant yesterday. I'm not embarrassed about feeling the way I did, I'm just a little sorry that I posted about it while it was still so fresh. I sounded so angry, and I'm kind of ashamed of that. I don't want anyone who is pregnant to think that I'm secretly seething inside the whole time I'm with them or talking to them. I'm not.
It's just that for some reason yesterday it was really difficult to talk about baby things for as long as I did.
I love babies. I love hearing about babies, I'm happy when I hear a friend is going to have one, and I'm very much looking forward to seeing who our new little neighbour is going to be. I am.
But it still sometimes sucks the life right out of me to participate so fully in baby talk and to pretend that it doesn't hurt all the while. Because it does, even when I'm happy for the mom and dad.
It's one of those lovely side effects of losing a child, I suppose. You lose your ability to participate fully in the joy of someone else's pregnancy no matter how much you might want to. And I hate that.
But I also hate that I let everyone know that with such alarming vehemence. I'm always afraid people with children and people who are pregnant will shut me out for fear of further wounding me, so I work hard to make them feel comfortable around me.
And then I go shooting my mouth off and alienate them. Pretty clever, eh?
Forgive me. I have the rest of my life to figure all this out and learn coping techniques that don't include multiple expletives and bitter vitriol.
I'll get there. I will.