Baby say what.....

Babies. Babies on the brain today. Maybe all week long. My friend crashed at my house for two days with her eight months old son. I got a heavy dose of baby.  I mean the baby slept in my bed, threw up in my hand and took a bath with me. I planned my day around baths, and naps and feeds and baby. I was exhausted. This is also the friend I have offered temporary asylum in my house to. She is going to be moving in with me for about seven months with her twin boys. It would not be an exaggeration to say after two days with her son this thought is causing me to freak the fuck out. It is one thing to not have a baby or to have a baby of your own, and having just battled this baby choice myself, I realized one serious thing. I am no one's mother and I do not want to take on this role in any way shape or form if the children do not belong to me. I fear this is going to fall on my shoulders. It is inevitable. I will be making dinner, the baby will be crying on the floor, my friend will be in the shower or something and I will just assume responsibility. The issue here is how often this will happen. So naturally now I am freaking out. This was supposed to be the summer of figuring me out. ME TIME. Not MOMMY TIME. This is all coupled with the fact that when I flew home to Vernon I walk into my Aunt's house and am bombarded by my pregnant cousin-in-law and her husband (my cousin) and their overwhelming happiness. I just didn't have it in me to be happy for them. I wanted to slit my wrists. They are everywhere. To top it off I would have been further along than her. It literally kills me. Unfortunately when I think about baby I think about D. I was lying in bed last night and in my brain a vision of us dancing naked in my bedroom, flickering candles everywhere on my last birthday invaded my otherwise calm mind. It was heartbreaking remembering how much I loved him. And more difficult even... how much I thought he loved me. How deeply he kissed me and how tightly he held me. He convinced me of his love. Sitting here now writing this makes my heart feel like all the finely held stitching holding the fragments of my heart together are slowly pulling apart at the seems. I guess I could write about babies and D all night but alas my hair is drying and if I don't want to look like raggedy Ann tomorrow I must go and blow-dry. Ta ta for now.