After some amazing weeks of sunny weather, the clouds rolled in this morning. Seeing them reminded me how much I love the clouds of fall after a hot summer (yes, I’m a complete wuss- 75 is hot to me). The clouds reminded me that if I was healed, this is when I’d be pregnant to keep our tradition of 2 years between children.
Then I went to church all alone (the boys were sick and Charming stayed home with them) and sat by a couple with one of the cutest baby girls I’ve ever seen. She sat so content in her mother’s arms, watching me with bright blue eyes and big toothless smiles. Man, I wanted to hold her.
Then I taught Charming’s Sunday School class and conducted during Relief Society. As I left church, I saw the same little baby girl. She was very tired and clinging to her father and then mother, burying her tiny face into her parent’s shoulder and crying the most adorably sad baby cry. And that was when something inside me snapped.
I walked to my car and with every step, I felt the flare-up of pain coursing through my hips and pelvis that happens every time I teach or conduct. Since I’d done both today, it was even worse than usual. I knew I’d have to go home and do the same dadgum routine I do every day: rest, stretch, ice-heat-ice. The routine that reminded me, yet again, that despite the clouds of fall, I couldn’t have the promise of a tiny baby with a toothless grin growing inside of me.
So I went home and gathered my husband in one arm, my baby with lots of teeth in the other arm and I buried my own face into Charming’s shoulder. And I cried a sad mommy cry.