I think it goes without saying that I hate this.
I hate this.
I hate the catch in my throat that happens when I hear a newborn cry. I hate the way my heart stops when I catch sight of a pregnant woman. I hate the way tears well up behind my eyes when I open Facebook to yet another pregnancy announcement. I hate that my excitement for your pregnancy is overshadowed by jealousy. I hate having to turn the channel when a commercial for the newest NICU comes on. I hate the way that I sometimes STILL forget that I'm not pregnant and I hate the way I sometimes feel like I'll never be pregnant again. I hate looking at the calendar and realizing that in just two weeks I should be starting my third trimester. I hate that I missed out on having a stranger rub my belly or ask when I was due because the week I really "popped" my water broke. I hate that I was never woken up by baby kicks to the bladder. I hate that the paint I picked out to paint the nursery is just sitting there and that I'm not begging Chris to help me assemble a crib. I hate seeing cute baby clothes because my baby will never wear them. I hate that I didn't get to complain about how huge I got or how swollen my ankles were. I hate that I won't have a baby this year. I hate that I won't have a baby in my twenties. I hate having lost my innocence. I hate knowing next time I get a positive on a test, my excitement will be tempered with fear. I hate that I can say, "When I was pregnant..." but that if someone were to ask how old my baby was I would be forced to admit that I don't have a baby at home, just in my heart.
I hate this.