7 lbs, 3 oz of Envy

Ok, that's it. I can't take it anymore. I cannot take the baby pictures on facebook. I know that sounds really mean and insensitive and all that and maybe I am. A friend I used to work with a few years back just gave birth to her first and pics from her hospital bed were uploaded before the umbilical cord was cut. And I really like my friend, I truly do, so I'm not trying to be bitchy or judgmental. I'm happy as hell for her. She's supercool and totally deserves. The problem is me: I am a ravenous jealous, premenopausal 41 year old with eggs that at this point are probably more scambled than poached. The nanosecond I lay my eyes on those pics, I'm in a heinously shit mood, I hate my life AND my boyfriend and just want to say fuck it and move to Paris, start a brothel and get really skinny smoking cigarettes, drinking sherry and eating ham. Those pics represent such hope and newness and light. The powerful, yet fragile presence of the newborn and the soft gaze of the mother ... now and forever intertwined for this lifetime. I feel so small as I stare. So weak compared to her strength ... and lacking of a significant responsibility to have, to serve, to live for. I mean, I fucking went skiing today. The woman GAVE BIRTH for God's sakes. Even celebrities, who have reached the pinnacle of their art form ... Oscar winners and platinum album superstars will swear up and down that the truth behind their success, the reason why they get up in the morning ... is for their children. All the money, fame, attention, power ... still cannot come close to the sense of wholeness they feel as parents. I can't imagine anything more powerful. And although I don't really give a shit what Reese Witherspoon says, it's quite a statement when someone who has everything we all want ... is happiest with the one thing we can all have. Well, that's if you have a boyfriend who's willing to procreate with you, or you have enough money for either top-notch sperm, or to adopt a cute little LingLing or Oksana ... all of which, of course, does not describe my current situation. To my friend, I say a huge congratulations. I'm envious as hell, you look gorgeous, he's adorable and all that. Fortunately, she'll be way too busy for the next couple of years to read this blog, which is cool ... sometimes I wish I didn't have time to write it.