Your first born

We were sitting at the computers for our staff meeting yesterday to access a website about our students. Before you can access the site, you have to agree to a list of privacy rules.
One of my fellow teachers was sitting next to me and she was a step behind me on the process. I told her I already clicked "I agree" and she jokingly said, "Oh, you didn't see you had to give away your first born child?"
I half-heartedly smiled.
She didn't mean any harm or hurt from her little quip.
It still stung though.

I am also reading Elizabeth McCracken's book An Exact Replica of a Figment of my Imagination that my friend Karen lent to me. It's not quite the same as what I went through, but amazingly similar emotions.

"This is the happiest story in the world with the saddest ending," writes Elizabeth McCracken in her powerful, inspiring memoir. A prize-winning, successful novelist in her 30s, McCracken was happy to be an itinerant writer and self-proclaimed spinster. But suddenly she fell in love, got married, and two years ago was living in a remote part of France, working on her novel, and waiting for the birth of her first child.This book is about what happened next. In her ninth month of pregnancy, she learned that her baby boy had died. How do you deal with and recover from this kind of loss? Of course you don't--but you go on. And if you have ever experienced loss or love someone who has, the company of this remarkable book will help you go on.With humor and warmth and unfailing generosity, McCracken considers the nature of love and grief. She opens her heart and leaves all of ours the richer for it."