I'm so thin-skinned at the moment, and so easily wounded by things people say.
I need to stop reading the comments on other people's blogs, because a comment that's made to help another person in a different situation can unintentionally stick another barb in my wound.
Like the one who commented that once she knew a NICU nurse who was treating her daughter had fertility problems of her own, she was afraid this nurse would steal her daughter.
Like the one who said of a nurse who was being mean that she obviously wasn't a mother herself, because a mother would be more sensitive.
Last week, my sister rubbished the advice of one of the best-selling authors of baby books, saying that because she doesn't have children of her own, she clearly knows nothing.
Just a couple more of the thousands of little pin-pricks that daily remind me that I'm a freak, that I'm not a member of the exclusive club I so want to join. And I watch the first-time mothers who've never changed a nappy before, never burped a baby before, holding the baby awkwardly in their arms as if they're afraid it'll break, and I wonder at the fact that they're members of this club and I'm not, and might never be.
I love my nieces and nephews, my godchildren, other children of my friends and family. I'm a useful babysitter, and I have tons of experience of looking after newborns, babies, toddlers and older children.
But don't worry - the fact that I don't have a baby of my own won't make me any more likely to steal any of your babies. It's a baby of my own I want, not somebody else's.