If I stand very still in the shade and focus on nothing at all, I can smell fall.
It’s coming. It’s a welcome relief even.
Fall means summer is over, and this summer can’t end soon enough. This month can’t end soon enough.
Some of the best moments of my life have happened in the fall.
With any luck, I’ll add another.
I confessed to someone else, a midwife, in front of Dave that I’m not dealing with our miscarriage. I’m just stumbling along until we’re pregnant again. That this is just a break. That once our baby is on his way again, everything will be fine.
I confessed to Otter today that I’m just faking my way through my days. Most days, I have myself nearly convinced life is normal again. It’s not, but some days it almost is. I further confessed that if I’m not pregnant by the end of October, I may lose my shit entirely.
That maybe a slight exaggeration. If we can be expecting our baby again before Valentine’s Day, I’ll be okay. If I’m not pregnant again by Valentine’s Day, I really will lose my shit. I will be absolutely devastated if we don’t conceive again the first go-round, but I may be wholly inconsolable if I have to survive my due date without knowing that another due date is around the corner.
There’s no way I’ll be able to meet Baby V if my own baby isn’t cooking along, and I so desperately want to meet Baby V. His parents have waited for him as long as we’ve waited for ours, probably longer, and they’ve worked much, much harder to get him here (side note: I’m just defaulting to masculine pronouns. I don’t know anything you don’t). I’ve spent more time torn up about Baby V never getting here than I have about my own baby never getting here. And I’ve prayed more prayers for that little fetus than I have for… probably anything else.
I’m torn most days about what to ask God for. Do I ask for myself (Please dear Jesus God let us get pregnant again quickly) or do I repeat the same request I’ve had for the last month (Please dear Jesus God let Baby V keep growing and be healthy and perfect. His parents have waited so long for him)? I make it a point to only ask for one thing a day.
After we found out we were pregnant, I dreaded telling anybody in my family, almost wholly because I dreaded telling Baby V’s mother. I know that sick sinking feeling when yet another couple announces they’re expecting, and you’re still not. You’re still waiting. I didn’t want to be the cause of that gut-check for my friend. We’re not close, but I like her, I think she likes me, and if I had to only invite twenty people to an awesome party, she and her husband would be on my list. So I kept mum about it, and made my mother an grandmother do the same.
When his parents announced that not only was Baby V on the way, but he would arrive almost exactly the same time as our little S-ling, I was so relieved. I was happy and excited for them sure, but I was just so very, very relieved their wait was over. And better yet, I didn’t have to be just one more pregnant woman. I didn’t have to feel sick about inviting her to a shower, or even seeing her, because we’d have the same big bellies (although let’s face it, she’s smaller so her belly would be proportionately humongous compared to mine). Thank God! Thank God this would be easy. Thank God I wouldn’t be the cause of distress for her. Thank God she was finally knocked up! Please dear Jesus God let her stay that way!
I’ve stopped following almost all the baby related Pinterest Boards. I’ve unfollowed most baby related things on Instagram, including a friend or two (sorry). I don’t touch the pregnancy blogs. I think I’ve managed to unsubscribe myself from every mailing list. I’ve even deleted my Babies’R’Us registry. I’ve had to hide a few news items from my Facebook feed. But I can still managed to look at and read updates from Momma V. Right now she’s the only expectant mother I can stand to see, the only one for whom I can honestly be happy. Baby V is the only baby I can consider making anything for.
But I know that if we’re not on the road to people-parenthood by the time I have the opportunity to meet this precious little creature, I won’t be able to do it.
Please dear Jesus God, let the fall bring another good thing. Don’t let me down Fall. I need you this year. I really, really do.