It's A Girl!

Congrafuckinglations.
     Eat shit and die. This isn't getting much better. I'm not crying much anymore, but there's still a massive hole inside of me, and honestly, nothing's going to fill it. How do you replace a child? With another one? Oh sure, that's a great idea. Let me get right on that. A small part of me tells myself I'm being ridiculous...after all, I wasn't trying to get pregnant, and I wasn't pregnant for very long at all. Most of me, however, says that I'm a terrible person because I couldn't keep my child safe. Every time I see pictures or posts on Facebook about my friends' offspring, I find myself falling down into my usual pit of sadness. One of my friends is about to pop one out, and I envy her. I envy her ability to keep her child safe and alive. I envy her luck of the draw. I envy the fact that she isn't tormented every night by what if's and regrets. I can't even talk to anyone, because everyone thinks I'm crazy for dragging this out so long. Every time my boyfriend (religiously) puts on a condom (too much info? Too damn bad.), every time I don't have to per excessively, every time I look at my waistline; every time I pass a maternity store, or the baby aisle; every time I see a magazine about pregnancy, or an article on the internet, or a Facebook post, or change my tampon; or realize that my boyfriend isn't in any rush to marry me anymore, I sink back into my quiet little hole and die a little bit again. I still say goodnight to my baby every time I go to sleep. Fuck life, and death, and whatever the hell is in between.