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Bobby, Sue and I went to a cookout with David Lee’s family today. I was dreading it – not because I don’t like David’s family because I do very much, or because I didn’t want to go because I did. I was dreading it because Dan (David’s brother) and his wife Amy have a new baby. Like a new-new baby. Eight weeks, to be exact. And I got myself all worked up in my head – just not, not, not wanting to go and act normal around a little family with a little daddy and a little mommy and a little baby.

Ick.

So I turned to my trusty friend, Ativan, and together we made it through. Walked in and almost immediately headed for the bathroom, where I muffled sobs in a wad of toilet tissue, then stared into my drugged-up eyes in the mirror and willed myself to be a normal, non-miscarrying kinda girl.

After that, I had a lovely time. I held Matthew, the perfect tiny little baby, and didn’t even clutch or grasp at him in a desperate way. I was amazed by him – his perfect fingers and toes and tiny ears and wild hair. I was completely enthralled – and completely neck-deep in an attack of baby-envy. Yes, folks, it’s a real medical condition and it’s vicious.

All joking aside though…. the pain in my heart was dulled by my trusty Ativan, but it still hurt. It just sucked. I don’t want to be one of those people who are so pissed off for themselves that they can’t be happy for others. Dan & Amy are lovely people, and Matthew is a perfect, beautiful little boy. I so, so desperately want a baby.

This sounds suspiciously like someone who’s obsessing. Refer to my previous goal to not obsess. Argh.

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