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Formerly pregnant, name-stealing cousin assaulted my inbox today with loads of pictures. I opened the emails. I had to. I didn’t want to, but just couldn’t help myself.

After looking at the child that has my would-be daughter’s name, I deleted all the emails except one. Now, I’m just sitting her contemplating the idea of hitting “reply.” That would be bad, wouldn’t it? I shouldn’t write her back. It wouldn’t resolve anything. It would only provide a moment of satisfaction, and it would create weeks, maybe months, of crap to clean up. But I really, really want to. I want to tell her what I think of her name-stealing. I want to tell her that her daughter’s beautiful and perfect — much more so than she deserves — but that I would greatly appreciate it if she would remove me from her emailing list. I want to tell her that I’m glad her little girl is healthy despite the fact that she chose to ignore all the suggestions and guidelines given to her by her doctor. I want to tell her that I hope that baby never knows that her mother referred to her as “that thing” up until just a few days before she was born.

But I’m not going to tell her anything. I’m just going to tell ya’ll instead.

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