I glanced at my calendar today and realized next weekend we are celebrating my friend’s son’s third birthday. We met literally a few days after he was born when I volunteered to bring them dinner, even though we had been attending the same church for awhile. While I held baby D, M and I got along like a house on fire.
A year later, when we were celebrating D’s 1st birthday, I remembered her asking me if I was doing okay being the only person there without a kid and if it bothered me. I remember saying no and meaning it. We had just started trying to have a baby and we didn’t anticipate being in the family way that quickly.
Fast forward to D’s 2nd birthday last March. I had to find something to fit over my huge belly and shoes to shove on my swollen feet. As we waded through bunches of kids at Gymboree, M and I joked that at D’s 3rd birthday in 2014 Mike would be able to attend and have fun.
I had to go back through my blog to read about what was going on in March of 2012 and it was a lot of nothing. I was starting Clomid and going through my first unsuccessful attempt at getting pregnant. Then in March of 2013 I was blogging about maternity pictures, the shape of my tummy and the baby shower M hosted for me.
Why do I bring this up? I am forgetting the hard part of our journey – the dates and details are running together. All the months of medicine with no results, the wondering, the Googling. I do remember the hardest part of the journey – the daily doctor appointments to monitor levels, the belly shots and 2 weeks of uncertainty. Why do I remember it? Not because it was hard or painful or stressful, but because it resulted in a big stinkin’ ball of love.
If you are on your own journey, you will forget the details, and that’s okay. I promise you will remember the important things. Like the last shot to the belly before it grows a human. And those memories will sneak in at the strangest times. Like for me tonight while I was rocking Mike to sleep while I was trying to memorize his face while he snored.
