Woe is Me

It is funny how you start seeing the same thing everywhere when you didn’t see it before, whether it is the car that you just bought (I bought a Datsun Stanza in the late 90s, and having never seen one before then, they were everywhere there after) or when you decide to get pregnant for the first time. For a while it was seeing babies and pregnant women after we lost our son. They were so prevalent, it seemed like a reproductive army was following me around. I would tear up in restaurants or the library, or just walking down the street. They haven’t really faded into the background as much as the Stanzas eventually did, and I still see a lot of maroon Traverses driving around town, but I suppose I stopped letting them upset me as much. Every once in a while I would be caught off guard, but that happens less and less often. But then something will remind me, quite bluntly – and that is probably due only to my mood at the time – that I could have had another baby grow in my arms until he started walking, I could have had those cuddles and sleepless nights, I could have had more time to wonder at small hands and feet and a thousand other tiny details. Yesterday I was caught off guard by a lovely lady swanning around with a petite bump, and it hurt my heart. Excuse me while I bury my face in booties and bonnets and heirloom wool.


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