No, I’m not pregnant.
But, that is what you immediately thought isn’t it? And now that I had to go and burst your bubble, you are a bit disappointed, aren’t you? And no matter what news I tell you now, it won’t hold up to that bit of excitement you had when you thought I was pregnant.
Never mind. I’m not telling you what the good news is. It will be anti-climactic and disappointing for you.
But just think what that little exchange did for me. You got to bring me down and remind me of my failures. Of the children I have lost. Of the months and months and months of charting and trying and dieting and crying. So, even if I was going to tell you “Good news! I just got a raise!” (I didn’t) or “Good news! I finally figured out how to get my chickens to stop eating their eggs!” (I haven’t) or “Good news! Boobock is finally sleeping through the night in his bed!” (he isn’t) I now get to think of my dead babies. And feel like I need to apologize to you for bringing the mood down.
I’ll try not to be so selfish next time.