There is a topic that I’ve been struggling to write about, and although I’ve alluded to it in this very blog before, I’ve been avoiding it like the plague. Much like I’ve been avoiding it in real life. However, it only seems natural that I would write about it, as it fits into the Forty Tales theme quite well. So, with that said…
Let’s talk babies.
Ugh. I don’t even know where to begin. Babies…they’re everywhere! As much as I try to escape them, as this subject matter has haunted me for years, I just can’t. It seems everyone I know is pregnant. And everyone I don’t know…also pregnant.
And everyone else has either been pregnant or will be soon.
Let me get this out of the way now so there is no confusion as this entry continues. I am very happy for all my expecting family and friends…and there are many of you. Sincerely, I wish you nothing but the best and send love and good wishes of health and happiness for a lifetime to come. Truly, I do.
With that said, I just can’t look at you.
I know that’s harsh, and it has absolutely nothing to with you. It’s me. All me. Acknowledging you reminds me that I have achieved what is considered the ultimate failure. I am not a mother. And to some, I have no place in this world.
