Sunday, August 24, 2008

About yesterday

Apparently it's time to color my hair. I had three different people comment on the gray yesterday - not on how much hair I chopped off, but on the gray and how there was a lot of it. Gee, thanks for the breaking news, Einstein. Would it be OK of me to comment on all your wrinkles and that maybe you shouldn't have spent so much time in the sun or smoked a little less cigarettes cuz you look about 10 years older than you actually are? Oh that's right, I have common courtesy so I'll just *think* those thoughts while you actually verbalize yours. Thanks for playing.

Yesterday was the first of two 1-year-old birthday parties I had to attend. It was fun (aside from the gray hair comments) and the only time I got teary eyed was when they sat the birthday boy in his high chair, gave him his little cake, and all the guests (about 30 total) started singing happy birthday to him. He looked around at everyone looking at and singing to him and started to cry. The poor little guy! I seriously couldn't help but get welled up because both his mom's (he's the product of IVF to a lesbian couple) tried to get his attention on to them so he would stop crying, which he did.

He's a happy baby. Very content. Ready to walk any minute. And he's absolutely adored by his mom's and all their friends.

I held him only once (did I mention he's the product of a lesbian couple? yeah so that means he's got grandparents that didn't think they were going to get a grandchild, and a gazillion "aunts" that want to do nothing but shower him with their love) and played with him for only a couple minutes. It was when I was about to play Bocce Ball with my dad, husband, and one of the granddads.

Z (the baby) spotted the balls we were holding and tried to come toward us so I gently tossed one of the Bocce balls onto the grass for the little guy to come toward. He did so I knew he wanted to play with the ball, but also had the sense to realize that he wouldn't really be able to lift the Bocce ball so I found a rubber ball and started playing catch with him. He was so happy when he threw the ball toward me that he squealed and waved his little arms about.

Gah, I cannot wait! It's not about being pregnant for me, though that's obviously step 1; I just want a child to nurture, to care for, to adore, to love, to guide, to protect, to help grow, to help thrive, to help and watch learn...

There were a couple times when a couple family members I haven't seen for a while asked how we've been doing. Thank god nobody asked when we were going to have a baby, but I have a feeling that they think we don't want kids or something... after all, we were together for 7 years before we got married last year and I'm getting up there in age. But, then again, maybe they realize that those kind of questions can very well be hurtful... look how long they had to wait for a baby to get into their family since one of the mother's (the one that didn't birth Z) is a lesbian.

I don't know, but I was SO grateful that nobody asked us when we were going to have a baby. SO grateful. And can I just add that it was not at all easy to answer the question, "So what have you guys been up to lately?"

"Not too much," was my answer that left my lips when my head said, Oh just finally finding out that I'm pregnant, being elated about the pregnancy, falling madly in love with the growing baby for four weeks, only to find out there was no heart beat and making the hardest decision in my life to undergo surgery to suck the pregnancy out of my uterus in hopes of being able to move on and forward.

"Just work and stuff," I said.

Meh, it's all to be expected I guess... and I'm just grateful I didn't have any crying spells or anything and that I was able to enjoy yesterday for what it was - Z's first birthday. It's not *always* about me, after all.

That was yesterday and today's a different day:

This morning after I came back to bed for the umpteenth time after peeing, yet again, I told DH that a part of me thought I might be pregnant again because of all the peeing and because of the *extremely vivid* dreams I've been having every single night for the past two weeks - just like when I was pregnant last time.

"I'm trying not to get worked up about it though, in case I'm not and because I really don't think I am," I added. "Plus, if I really am, I don't think I could be as excited as I was last time."

Saying it out loud to someone else really made me sad for a moment - I don't think I could be as excited as I was last time. It shouldn't be like that. Every pregnancy is different and my chances of having a healthy pregnancy following a miscarriage are great... but it's how I feel. Today at least.

"You probably haven't even ovulated yet," he answered.

"Yeah," I said, trying to drift off into another dream.


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