Stew
B.F. is pregnant.
Six weeks. Just learned today.
She's terribly sick -- she sounds truly horrible. She hasn't been able to keep anything down for 48 hours.
She's going to make a terrific mom. And B.F.'s husband is going to make a terrific dad.
And right now, I am a mess of emotion. Some genuine happiness for them, concern for the intensity of her morning sickness, but mostly --- as ashamed as I am to admit it -- a lot of bad tangly feelings for me.
Did they get my baby? I realize it is the stupidest question in the world, I truly do. But it's in my head anyway.
Six weeks. Just learned today.
She's terribly sick -- she sounds truly horrible. She hasn't been able to keep anything down for 48 hours.
She's going to make a terrific mom. And B.F.'s husband is going to make a terrific dad.
And right now, I am a mess of emotion. Some genuine happiness for them, concern for the intensity of her morning sickness, but mostly --- as ashamed as I am to admit it -- a lot of bad tangly feelings for me.
Did they get my baby? I realize it is the stupidest question in the world, I truly do. But it's in my head anyway.
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