Argh ...

I went to work for a couple hours. Just long enough to do what I needed to do and head out.

I spent the rest of the day with my best gay, Marc.

We went to a local italian place for lunch - his roomie (non-sexual, btw) and good friend of mine is the bartender there. So we ate and hung out.

Then it was on to WalMart and back to his place. Where I napped for an hour or so.

And that was it. We watched last season's So You Think You Can Dance reruns, the one where Benji won. And sat in that comfy silence of long time friends.

I got home around 7:30. Even though I really didn't want to be here.

No stories of a baby told to me, but over the phone to a step-sibling. So here I sit, a book in my lap, staring at the computer screen and wishing we were already in our own place.

I think what makes it so hard is that they just don't get it. The only people in this house who acknowledge that I was pregnant at all is me and my husband. The rest? It's like it never happened. October 25th is still just another day to them. To us it's a big date.

The date.

But they - those around us - just go on like it never happened. And having my dad basically tell me, more than once, that I just need to get over it doesn't help. So he remembers. And has pertty much said it's not a big deal.

I think that's what makes this so much harder for me. They don't get and they make no efforts to try to get it.

And that makes it feel more like a lack of caring than a lack of understanding.