Thursday night, my husband and I had nachos for dinner. And every time we have nachos I drive my husband crazy by topping mine with ketchup. It's weird, I know, but it's something I've liked since I was a kid. Anyway, after enjoying my ketchup covered nachos, sadness suddenly caught me off guard. It dawned on me; when I was pregnant with Joey, I couldn't stand the taste of ketchup on my nachos. I used to joke about it and say it was a clear sign that this was without a doubt my husband's child. But now, I was sad to see my own taste buds had returned. It was another reminder that Joey was no longer inside me. I had a good cry that night, never expecting that something as silly as ketchup would bring me so much sadness.
On the plus side, my husband and I had a good time today speculating what it will be like when I'm pregnant again. Hope has been gradually growing as time keeps moving forward. Although the next pregnancy will be nothing like the first and full of far more complications, we are starting to see more of the positive sides of it all. Really, no matter what complications may come, as long as the end result is a happier one, I'll be okay with it. As I mentally prepare myself for limited mobility, no sex, and surgery (the cerclage), I'm starting to feel more comfortable with the idea of what this next pregnancy will be like. It will by no means be easy all the time, but if it means we get to have a full-term baby, then how could I ever say it wasn't worth it.--It's funny to say "full-term" baby. We've already had a baby and in my mind, we're already parents. So it doesn't feel right to say "when we have a baby" or "when we get to be parents." I guess after going through what we did, still forever loving my son the way I do, it feels more appropriate to say a "full-term" baby to label what it is that I am hoping for. Just a thought anyway.--
Also, on Friday a parent of one of my previous students pulled me aside to give me her condolences on the loss of our son. It was a little weird to have someone still willing to say anything about it. Most people have seemed to have moved on already expecting me to go back to "normal." The mother said she hadn't had the chance to see me since the miscarriage and didn't feel right saying it in an email. She was very sweet and told me how much I've made and impact on her son and how great she thinks I am with the kids. It was nice to hear. It's odd, though, how some people who haven't seen me for awhile don't know how to bring up the subject of our loss, so they acknowledge it by asking "how are you holding up?" I'm not sure how else to respond except to say, "well...I have my good days and my bad days, but at least we have lots of family and friends supporting us which has made things easier." I guess that's just about all I can say to them really. Besides, some really want to know, and some are just being courteous.
One last amusing thing: this weekend my husband and I went to ride the Salem Waterfront carousel while down in Oregon for a family reunion. Anyway, we both randomly picked a horse to ride. And after getting settled, we noticed each horse had a name posted above them. My husband was on the horse named "Sonshine." (And no it’s not a typo. It was Sonshine spelt with an ‘o’ instead of a ‘u’.) We couldn't help but smile. Ironic, meant to be, a sign...whatever it was it at least brought us a little joy and perhaps even a glimmer of hope, and what's wrong with that?