Two of the mommies who were in my graduating class of mommyhood -- that is, who all had their first babies around the same time -- are now pregnant with their second kids. I'm happy for them, in that crazy-lady ridiculous happy way I get happy these days when I find out someone I know is pregnant. I love it. One of my favorite people from high school just announced she is pregnant with her first. It's like a cult. Once you're in, you want everyone else in too.
But, I admit to a twinge of jealousy. There were things I thought I'd have done by now that still haven't materialized, and certain parts of my life still feel like I'm on hold. I've had the bug for a second baby myself for a while now. But, I also know that I'd be happier waiting for a while, so that I can have my wedding and honeymoon and then have another baby.
But the wedding is postponed indefinitely, until there is less debt and more money.
Which means that baby #2 is just somewhere out there on the distant horizon, as well.
I hate that someone else's good news makes me slip into a funk of depression. Like, what kind of horrible friend am I? Slash, horrible person, that I can't just be happy for their good fortune without a) slipping into a funk of depression, or b) making it all about me?
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