"Two and a half months." She said it with a wide smile. She was, quite literally, glowing over the tiny little one in the baby carrier as she made the introduction to an old friend she obviously had not seen in a while. Two and a half months. My brain took off before I could even consider putting a stop to it...
Two and a half months. September. I wonder if that baby would have been born on the same day as Travis. Sweet little Travis...who only made it to May. How big would he be? He would probably already be out of his infant carrier...not tiny like that baby.
And then there was the mother at the register with three boys. The oldest was probably about four. The middle boy was probably three. And there was the baby in the infant carrier. Three boys. I smiled at the baby.
My mom asked if it still hurt. What could I say?
"Yes. It doesn't just go away or get better."
I've already gone overboard for this Christmas. Why? Because Sam has had another crappy year and I want to spoil him. I don't have to worry about his brothers...shopping for them is easy (and comparatively cheap). And in the back of my mind sits the thought that I won't have to worry about the expense of two in daycare at the same time. Ever.
Two and a half months. Three boys. How much do you spend on Christmas? A simple turn of a phrase and there is no stopping it. It just doesn't go away or get better.
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4 comments:
Hugs.
No, it doesn't, does it? :(
Oh Catherine, I'm sorry. The same thing happened to me at the grocery store the other day. A happy glowing pregnant little mom with a little boy who looked to be about my son's age in her cart. I cried for the rest of the day. It's so hard seeing what could've/should've been.
You're right, it doesn't get better. Sending love.
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