Why I love the people I've chosen to have in my life

It went exactly like this:

Me: It was a boy... the baby.
Them: Oh! *realisation sinking innnnnn around-a-bouuuuut...nnnnnnnow* ..........Oh............
Me: Yeah.
Them: Well, we'd better get going. We have to get to Bunnings before we go home.
Me: Ho-kay! *feeling surprisingly, refreshingly good about the exchange because, for once, I did not lay any private expectations on them this time for a sympathetic reaction - why would they suddenly do that after this long*

I needed to tell them. This "them" who are not in my life by choice. End of story, nothing more. There isn't even a hint of a residual "but it would've been nice to get x,y,z from them". Man, this is liberating! The people I've chosen to have in my life, of course, would remind me that I've come a long way, baby. That I can announce my losses and let them hang in the air, expose my sense of maternal, feminine, failure in that loss. And I haven't died from it yet. Maybe once upon a time, just a little bit, inside. But funnily enough, even that bit's regenerated now. Pity it can't grow me an extra pair of hands, that same mutated Regrowing Stuff gene I apparently have.

This is the reason why I am really pleased with the choices I am making, about whom I give my heart and whole to. It highlights even more those who are going to remain in my life but cannot ever hope to get the All of me. And it's why I include this little exchange here. To remind myself.