Just last week I was driving home from work and patting myself on the back for my awesome coping skills. I was feeling great! I was happy! No baby-related depression! I attributed most of that to my post about Gage, and all the kind words you people left me, which I must admit was probably at least 25% of the reason why I posted in the first place. It helps to hear people say nice things sometimes. It had been days since I'd cried. CAN YOU IMAGINE? DAYS PEOPLE!!
I was pretty proud of that accomplishment, given that one friend of ours just welcomed his second child this week. Also, Gray's cousin had her first child, one month early, but everyone is happy and healthy. That one, well...I was expecting that one to hurt the worst because I was excited that our kids would be born within 3 or 4 months of each other and could grow up together. (The only setback came when Gray's ma asked if I wanted to go to a baby shower with her. Um, no. Thanks anyways.)
Friday, we went to watch some wrestling at a bar. That was really fun. I curled my hair all up and wore a rabbit scarf. It's good to feel hot on a Friday night. Then came Saturday night. The annual Christmas Party with friends from work. Awesome food (hot chicken, I so want to sleep with you), lots of good wine (too much), and tons of people we adore.
Except...I forgot to prepare myself for the arrival of one friend and his 21-week pregnant wife. I think, had I realized they might be there, I would have steeled myself and been just fine. Instead, when they walked up the stairs, I kind of felt like she'd poked me in the eye with her big pregnant boob, and then bent me over her belly and spanked me (and NOT in the good way).
This friend and his wife, this is their fourth child, and I believe that the last two pregnancies, while not unwanted per-say, were certainly unplanned. I remember hearing that the friend was less than thrilled this last time, and he's since gone and gotten himself all snipped up to prevent further "accidents". Do you think they'd notice if I just kind of "took" their youngest child? I mean, in the aftermath of bringing home their new baby, they might not even notice if the toddler is missing...hmmm. Will consider...
It also appears that the mama-to-be had to, in essence, get her lady parts stitched up to avoid having the child fall the fuck out before he has cooked all 40 weeks. Interesting problem to have, not that I'd wish it on anyone, and I'm glad she's off her bed rest now. Maybe after the third birth, the kids just start slipping out if you cough or something. Or, as Jenny McCarthy says, sex is probably like, "throwing a hot dog down a hallway."
Anyhow, they are such nice people and obviously I don't wish them any ill, but when might I reach the point when other people's pregnancies don't feel like a personal affront? When will I stop interpreting a swollen belly with a giant middle finger? Sigh. And the kicker? She was smoking. (On the upside, I can probably absolve myself of blame for smoking those two days after the positive pregnancy test...that probably wasn't enough to kill the baby, in hindsight...)
So all of this culminated in my drinking way too much wine (thank you to Gray for getting my ass out of there before anyone realized how plastered I was), and OF COURSE, offering repeatedly (bordering on obnoxiously) to babysit their three fully-cooked children any time they want to get away. I guess, in my mixed up little brain, that caring for other children might remind me that I've got it pretty good now with none. Plus, the closer I am to the toddler...the more likely I am to come up with a fool-proof kidnapping plan.
Sunday was spent on the couch, intermittently crying and sleeping. Eventually, I made my ass get up and go grocery shopping. I mostly felt better after that excursion, but I refrained from doing the laundry and decided to lay around for the rest of the day instead.
So...how was YOUR weekend? And did it also involve midget wrestling and copious self-pity? I've got one final Arkansas installment, so watch for that later in the week. For now, I'm busy nursing a case of The Mondays (I totally won Officespace in the dice game on Saturday, so you can also look forward to repeated use of the terms "fuckin' a" and "waaaay down, deeper and deeper"...)