An old friend of ours was hesitant to break the news. After a long, hard road she is expecting her first child. I want to wish her the best, and to do so with an easy heart, but I’m not quite there yet. The husband is a man of few words but this morning we agreed on one sentiment: Fuck everyone else and their stupid happiness. Yes, we’re angry. And we’re bitter. What would have been my due date is approaching (around Mother’s Day, which, this year, coincides with the fifteenth anniversary of my brother’s death). And older people, from generations where larger broods were common, seem to blow off our loss with handy catchphrases like “better luck next time” (I don’t even know if there will be a next time). After my brother died I remember such a person…who’d had the gall to proclaim “your parents should have had more children”. I was left speechless at the time, but fifteen years later I’ve thought of a comeback…it’s about quality, not quantity.