faking it

I went to a friend’s birthday last night, at a place where you paint your own version of a famous painting — we did cafe terrace at night by van gogh.

Van Gogh - Terrasse des Cafés an der Place du Forum in Arles am Abend1.jpeg

(not at all what mine looks like) (and now we have two because my husband came as well)

I had prepared myself before we showed up. She’s one year older, has been married awhile, and… I was right. She’s five months pregnant. As soon as she turned away my husband looked at me and I whispered, “I’m good, it’s all good. I’m totally good.”

What I am actually most excited about is the same thing that I’m dreading the most — so far I’ve managed to only have one pregnant friend in LA, and she struggled with infertility as well so I was over the moon when she got pregnant. When I was pregnant (sigh), I was worried about my lack of girlfriends with babies — I have a lot of single lady friends. Of course, now, C is due in August, and from the looks of last night, she’s got plenty of pregnant friends. I’d have a whole built-in network! If only I could, you know, get pregnant (and stay pregnant! important!). I think the last thing pregnant women want to hear about is multiple miscarriages.

I hope I’m pregnant before she has her baby in August. I am trying not to think about the fact that we would have been on maternity leave for much of the same time — I would have been just six or seven weeks behind her. Once I get to motherhood, it would be nice to have some fellow travelers. I just have to get there.


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