These days, I feel a little bit like I'm stuck in slow motion while the world swirls around me. As I slog through cosmetology school, which quite often feels like a colossal waste of time and energy, I'm frequently reminded of the different plans I had for this summer. If life unfolded in a tidy and predictable fashion, I'd be huge and pregnant right now, busily scurrying (or more likely, waddling) around in preparation for a new baby. I think about it all of the time. How huge would my belly be? How would we have decorated the nursery? Would we have a name picked out? I wish so desperately that I was thinking about cribs and car seats right now, instead of thinking about different types of shampoo or whether or not someone's hair can handle being colored. My patience for the vapidity and shallowness that encompasses hair school is completely worn out. How can I possibly make myself care about this stuff when I'm supposed to be having a baby right now?
When we lost the first pregnancy we were devastated, which is completely expected in the situation. Time passed and the wound began to heal. But in an unexpected twist, I've felt the wound begin to ache again as we get closer to what is now just July, but was supposed to be the month we met our baby. I knew it would sting to reach this time with empty arms and an empty belly, but these new waves of longing and loss still take me by surprise.
On Mother's Day, I felt pretty content to just celebrate the incredible mothers that I have in my life. I didn't feel too sorry for myself. But for some reason this Father's Day reminded me so acutely that I really wish our little jelly bean had stuck around to help me wish a happy Father's Day to Cary.
I just really want to make this guy a dad. I know he'll be an amazing one.