I apologize in advance for the long rant. I haven't gone into this much in SF, mainly because it's still a pretty fresh wound, but there is another major source of my pain right now, and it's about to get bigger. When I was a kid, my schizophrenic biological mother had 2 more children, my 2 long-lost half sisters. Both were put up for adoption, and I spent most of my adult life searching for them. I won't bore you with the details, but to make a very long story short, just over 6 years ago the younger of the two, Lacy, found me. For the first four years or so, we were incredibly close. She let me down regularly from the start, but I loved my long-lost little sister so much, and so unconditionally, it was easy to ignore. Over the years, she took and took and took, and I gave and gave and gave. I happily let her treat our home as her river vacation home. During the summer, she and her partner spent nearly every weekend here, and we paid for everything. If she had a better offer for the weekend, she wouldn't even bother to call (or even return my worried calls), she just wouldn't show up. During the winter, she would disappear completely, not return my calls, maybe call me back a few weeks after Christmas when I would mention in a voicemail or email that I had her Christmas gift. Despite my outpouring of love, I never once got a call or card from her for any holidays or my birthday. She never once invited me over to her house, or out to dinner, or to anything at all. Several times over the years, I tried to gently confront her on the one-sided nature of our relationship. Every time, she would fly off the handle and give me the silent treatment until I gave in and let it go. She never once apologized for any of her selfish actions and behaviors. Still, I forgave, and she popped in and out of my life at her convenience. After months of being ignored, she called to say that her partner had major, open heart surgery (which she almost didn't survive) and asked if when she got out of the hospital, they could stay with us in our (relatively) calm country environment while she recuperated. I gladly agreed, and within hours of their arrival realized that I was expected to take care of all of her medical needs, including organizing and administering her many medications, changing and caring for the IV port that hooked up to a computer and bag and went directly to her heart (and could kill her if not properly cared for) and physical therapy. I had to BEG Lacy to take over medication when she would get home, usually HOURS after her work shift ended. To Lacy, not being the center of attention was beyond comprehension, and she openly resented her partner for every inconvenience caused by her illness. Like me, her partner knew that confronting Lacy was futile, and gave up trying to defend herself. Lacy continued to pop in and out of my life until my business tanked, our finances fell apart and we suddenly became ill-equipped to satisfy her material desires. That first summer of the worst of our financial struggles, it became clear that without the funds, I had nothing to offer that interested Lacy. We were by now, connected on FB, and she would ignore not only my own personal posts to my wall, but my private messages and posts to her wall. It might be helpful to point out that up until this point, I had known Lacy to be a lesbian, like me. I can honestly say, her sexuality had no bearing whatsoever on my feelings for her one way or the other, but she had actually “disowned” lesbian friends who had the occasional fling with men. Even though I never could relate to this sort of “jumping ship”, one several occasions, I was the voice of reason when Lacy was rabidly angry at a friend for this sort of behavior. "Switching teams" isn't for me, but I’ve always said, live and let live. Then one day, I put 2 and 2 together based on her cryptic wall posts and discovered that she had split up with her (female) partner after months of covertly dating men (this was confirmed when I finally reached her partner). I offered Lacy my support in her new heterosexual conversion (which she of course ignored, as she ignored everything that my broke-ass I had to say at this point). Finally, after she didn’t even acknowledge several significant events in my life, much less respond to my multiple attempts to reach out, after a year of chasing after this person who clearly wanted nothing to do with me now that I was financially strapped, I finally had no choice but to call her out on her bullshit. I put together a gently worded, but firm email explaining my hurt and frustration, and telling her that if she genuinely cared about our relationship, she needed to try to reciprocate a bit. Well, she attacked me with everything she had and called me every name in the book. Never once apologizing and even acknowledging her behavior. So that was it. I told her that I could no longer continue to give and forgive with nothing whatsoever in return, and asked her to stay out of my life for good. A month later, I discovered that she is pregnant. This impossibly selfish little princess who gave up 3 dogs in 4 years because they were “too hard” (another thing that as a lifelong animal activist, I had a really hard time with), who couldn’t even be bothered to care for her own partner in her hour of need, would now be responsible for another human life! Now she's due any day now, and it's tearing me apart. I can honestly say that I still want nothing to do with her. Cutting her out of my life was one of the best things I ever did for myself. But I’m almost 41 years old and have a child-shaped hole in my heart that will probably never be filled. I’ve blocked her on FB, but still see her tweets, which despite her age (she’s 29), sound very much like a 14 year old expectant mother would sound. This baby is nothing more than an accessory to her, and the moment she realizes that the baby requires sacrifice and will actually take attention away from her, I shutter to think what will happen. At least once a week I dream that we somehow got custody of this child. This, of course, would never happen, because even if (when) she get’s tired of this child, she would never swallow her pride and give him to me (it’s a boy). Most likely, her 80 year old grandmother will end up raising him, just as she ended up raising Lacy (who as it turns out, was raised by her paternal grandparents). Her ex, who I am still pretty close to, is still in contact with Lacy, and has promised to let me know when he is born. If I'm really lucky, she will get a photo to pass on to me. But it breaks my heart to know that he will never be a part of my life, and it pisses me off that I will never have the opportunity to give a child the happy childhood that I was deprived of, while she messes up this innocent little boy forever. Sorry for the rant.