To my close, pregnant friends...

I don’t hate you, and I’m not trying to be a bad friend. It is hard for me to see you, knowing we were all a month apart. Watching your gender reveals has been excruciating pain, knowing I’ll never get the same chance with my precious little one, lost too soon.

It hurts like hell watching you walk down the hallway at work, and I’m sorry I don’t meet you for coffee in the mornings anymore. I’m sorry I don’t ask you how it’s going. I’m sorry I can’t be a bigger and better person. But I want you to know that I know how I’m being.

I want you to know that I question my every negative thought and evasive action, and immediately after every wave of sadness there is a wave of guilt, knowing I should be there for you and unable to make myself available.

I still love you guys to pieces, but I hope you’ll understand... I can’t be a best friend right now. It’ll get better, or so I’m told, but I’m not there yet.

I’m sorry.