I guess there is a reason for everything, though I hate to believe it is true. I am not, apparently, able to have another child. No, we didn't try for a year. No, I didn't take my temperature faithfully everyday. No, I didn't consult a fertility doc. I guess that I thought that going off the Pill and having sex like it was a chore, would make everything happen on its own, like when we conceived Mia. I guess I was wrong. Now, I am left with the task of weeding out the basement of her crib, baby toys, strollers and carseats for a garage sale, so that someone that has been blessed with a future baby can get a good deal. It makes me sad and sick at the same time.

I don't really know if I would have been a good mother to a second baby. Maybe I am not a good mom right now. The one thing I do know, is that it kills me that I will never hold a newborn that is my own. I know there are others out there that won't either. I am not trying to feel sorry for myself, just put things into perspective. Actually, I am feeling sorry for myself, very sorry, and I think that it is going to take more time for me to recover than I expected.

I am seeing that Ashley Simpson, Jamie Spears, Angelina Jolie and a bunch of others are pregnant. Must be nice. I only really hate Angelina though! Who doesn't? I'm not even talking about her being pregnant, ha, ha.

As I was sifting through the big bunch of crap in the mail today, something fell into my lap. It was a Babies R Us catalog. On it is a visibly pregnant woman, holding tiny, baby booties. Why was this the only piece of mail that fell? Why do I have to be reminded that there isn't a chance for me to need new baby items? What is it going to take for me to have some peace about this? I know the answer is time, but time is making it even more painful, because I am out of time.