Yesterday at work, someone looked at my belly and asked, "Is there something we should know?" I couldn't lie. My secret is out.
While driving home yesterday, I imagined what it would be like to hold actually this baby after a live birth. I felt his weight (no, I don't know anything...I just have a feeling). I could see his eyes. I touched his skin. I could feel him move...breathe.
Last night I had incredibly angry dreams in which I screamed curse words at people I love for no apparent reason. Even as I was doing it I knew it was wrong...but I felt this primal urge to inflict the pain of my personal frustration on them.
There is a certain amount of freedom in the truth.
There is even more freedom in dreams.
I feel like I cheated Travis out of my dreams. I never imagined him as anything more than a half-baked little baby. I'm not sure I truly believe in self-fulfilling prophecies, but I still carry a certain amount of guilt for any part I may have played in his fate. As scary as it may be, I can not do that to this baby. If it means I have to sit down every day and force myself to think good thoughts, then that's what I'm going to do. If only to make myself feel better later...if only as a means to ease my guilt.
But those are not the only reasons I'm going to force the happy thoughts.
I'm going to do it because it made me smile. I'm like an addict now. I WANT the happy ending. But since I know I'm not guaranteed that...I'm going to take the happy moments where I find them.
Even if they are just in my daydreams.