When you think everything's okay.....

3/14/12
10 Weeks

It's been 10 weeks since I freed Blue Sunday from this unfair life. 10 whole weeks. That is more than half the time Blue Sunday spent in me (18.6 less 2 prior to conception that counts as pregnancy) How can someone be so thoroughly changed by something in their lives for not quite 17 weeks?

I had been having a string of OK days. Not great- never great- but OK. Sometimes even happy. I went home after work yesterday and went shopping for clothes for vacation. It was fun. I did see little baby Red Sox outfits at the entrance to one store. I felt that stabby in my heart thinking about how, had this chromosomal fluke hadn't happened I most certainly would have gotten one. There was another moment, trying on bathing suits where I wanted to cry looking at the flabbiness that sits where a firm, round, moving bump should be. There were two pregnant women in one store. When we left Hub said "Sometimes I think the world is out to get us. Like it's rubbing our noses in it". I have to agree hub. Overall though- it was fun and I was OK.

After we got home,  I was trying to watch "The New Girl". The show is very funny which is what I needed. The episode we turned on was about a cancer scare in one of the main characters. Strike One- please no medical crises for awhile.  Due to his lack of insurance, he ends up at a gynecologist's office, complete with lots of roundly pregnant women. Strike Two. After a night of getting high on pain pills and reflecting on life- they all end up at the beach in Santa Monica. Strike Three.

How do I know they are at the beach in Santa Monica? Why is that a strike? I could see the Santa Monica pier in the background. The giant Ferris Wheel overlooking the ocean. The same Ferris Wheel hub and I rode the day I tested positive- pregnant with Blue Sunday. I was so happy.

When we went to bed, hub brought Blue Sunday up. That he is sad for me. That it is so unfair because I'll be such a good mom. That he believes it will happen for us. I just don't know anymore. I don't want just any baby-- I want that baby. I want my baby.

I saw this on a blog today- a blog far, far sadder than my own. I think it is beautiful.

"Dear Lord, I would have loved to have held my baby on my lap and tell him about You,
but since I didn't get the chance, would You please hold Him on your lap and tell him about me."

To say that I am questioning my faith is putting it mildly, but this makes me want to believe. I guess that's a start.

Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out when
You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up
In your face

Alanis Morissette, Ironic