I cried in front of my child for the first time today, and she screwed up her forehead in confusion, Ma, get a grip? I had been thinking about Baby Isaac all morning, and I blinked back tears when the update came. His parents only got 16 minutes. 9 months for 16 minutes. So I cried because I have a healthy child, one that pulled on the needypants today and sat the butt of her needypants right on top of my last nerve and then pretended it was a see-saw. It is unfair. It is unfair that I have this blessing, even when it's wearing needypants, and that others who are aching for one do not. I had to call Loverpants this morning, just to tell him how distraught I was over Baby Isaac whose parents I may never even meet. He told me that I wasn't involved. It is his job to do so. My social worker husband is good at reminding me that I am not involved. But I am involved, and I have been involved. I peed on a stick and saw a plus sign and I became involved in a movement, a nameless force that sometimes drives me to do insane things for the love of someone that will inevitably hate me one day for loving her so much, a force that compels me to feel in a deep and real way for anyone who has carried another living soul inside of herself and for all others who wait in expectation. God bless Baby Isaac and his parents whose pain I cannot begin to fathom, but which I can very much try to imagine, especially because I am involved.