Tuesday seems like it’s 8 million years away. I’ve stared at the HPTs, but I haven’t used them. I think world war III would break out at my house if I took one early. The husband is pretty adament about me waiting. Last time, I took one early and got a negative. I fell into my deep, dark depression. Then two days later, I took another one (still early). Positive. Ran up to the clinic to get bloodwork. Preggos. Then, well, we know what happened. I hate talking about it.
My co-worker brought in her baby, AGAIN, to work. It’s so hard being around her. I don’t know what to say or do. I ache so badly. We ended up talking about houses.?. Here’s this newborn, and all I want is for her to leave my office… with that “thing” that haunts me. Ms. Negative has come back.
I want to jump on a plane and snatch up an orphan in Haiti. Anyone want to come? I’m serious. I just don’t know how to perform such a task. I guess what’s stopping me is the glimmer of hope that I can have my own child. I’m already a mom (stepdaughter), but we all know I didn’t give birth to her. Something about giving birth and having a baby grow inside of you……
