well, the joyous news came again today.  “we’re pregnant!”


but it’s not our joyous news.  it’s somebody else’s.  someone i don’t even like.  someone who–according to me–doesn’t even deserve to be a mom.  and why does she get to have another kid anyway?  oh, i tell ya, the instant my husband told me the news, i felt my heart sink right into the crunchwrap supreme i was eating–which, as we all know, is definitely not approved fare on any reputable super-healthy-fertility-eating-regimen.  should i miscarry again, i’m sure i’ll think of that crunchwrap with guilt and anxiety…certain my dreadful choice to eat fast food was what caused it to happen again!  or was it the caffeine i drank?  or maybe it was that one sit-up i did that one time?  what about those calcium pills i kept forgetting to take?


well, this is the honest truth–i’m not happy when i hear someone’s pregnant.  at least not at first (i’m sorry for faking it with any of you who may be reading this–i guess now you know the full story).  and usually if i do get around to feeling happy about it, i’m not happy for long.  no, my initial feelings are more along the lines of intense jealousy, rage and envy…those dark, ugly, unsayable feelings that are tucked away behind fake smiles and cheery inquiries: how exciting! when are you due?!  this is wonderful!


i hide the “ugly” feelings because i don’t want to be one of those women with whom people are afraid to share their good news.  i don’t want to be bad and mean; i just want to be happy and calm and likable.


but guess what?!  i’m rarely happy and calm.  i’m sometimes likable, sometimes not.  and i’m especially NOT happy, calm or likable when i hear their joyous news.