The Fourth

The weekend went by without any tears and without too much angst. Our friends' baby was impossibly cute, all 30 hours of him, and I can't count the number of innuendos that were made regarding how it's time for me and DH to get one too. But a good time was had by all, and I was able to distance myself - most of the time - from all the parenthood that was going on around me. And from the what-if's. I was able to take in the hints that it's time for me and DH to get going in large part because it's looking like we do have an estimated date of resuming TTC. But there were times when I felt my heart drop a good ten inches. For example, my mom was talking more with the new-mom friend than with me and DH. She even got their baby a little gift - for no reason other than she was excited to have a baby to buy something for. We've known these friends for ages and all it takes is one sperm and one egg and all of the sudden our friends have more in common with my parents than they do with us. They are 'in the club.' We're not.

There were also the comments. DH was accusing me of not using my new camera enough and the husband in the couple said "I know one way to get her to use the camera more."

And when the dogs' excitement over having a tiny person crawling around on the floor with them became apparent (the baby would crawl towards them with his tiny grippy fingers outstretched toward their ears and as he got closer, the dogs would take the baby by complete surprise with a barrage of kisses all over his face), my dad said "[Fur baby] is going to want one of those now."

DH spent half of our hike carrying the baby in a baby bjorn (it was a long hike and the baby is just about to outgrow the front pack so the guys took shifts) and it was mesmerizing how much fun DH was having and how he lit up the kid's face, swaying this way and that, bouncing around, running after the dogs (the kid loved them as much as they loved him). That stuck like a dagger in the compartment of my heart that still holds a shred of the "that should be us, this should be real."

The weekend was still fun for me largely because my dogs were amazingly well behaved, almost as much fun as the baby, and much easier in all respects. They were SO good with the baby. Which warmed my heart because of how sweet they all were together and then also because it's good to know they'll behave if we ever manage to produce one of those. We also got out a lot - did some serious hiking and beachgoing. The dogs came with us, thank god. They are truly like the bandage that stems the flow of my maternal need and anguish. As long as I have them to focus on, to distract me, to talk about and fawn over, I'm ok. But at one point the new parents each had one fur baby, DH had their baby and I was...alone. And it was hard. I didn't know what to do or how to feel or where to look. It's that loss of control. It's like I'd rather have something to take care of - even if it means endless concern or worry or work - than having nothing at all. Than having there be no point to myself.

I noticed this weekend that I'm getting to a stage where I can really treat my pregnancy like it wasn't meant to be. Which is good considering my due date is in three weeks. And my due date buddy is about to give birth. I really feel like I just was cursed with a medical condition that never would have become a baby anyway and it has simply delayed our start date by a year. Big deal.

However, another thing I learned this weekend was how very badly and truly I want a baby, having gone the full 24 hour routine with one. And how very ready me and DH are for one. And what worries me a bit now ('cause there's always something) is that the anticipation will only build throughout The Wait. And I already have my hopes up so very very high for the next go-round. I hope I'm not dooming myself to disappointment. What if it doesn't happen again so easily. What if something else goes wrong? What if DH has a change of heart in the next five months. What if we can't seem to time things right, TTC was frustrating the first time - I can only imagine how it will be after the year that I've had and the hope that I am placing on this winter when we start to try again. I feel like after all this I deserve to have things go perfectly, so I'm bound to be disappointed. So although I'm emerging from the loss healthfully, I am entering into dangerous territory. I guess whatever goes wrong, I will be able to say that I'm doing all that I can. And that is all I can do. And all that I need to know to have some peace with this journey.