He did it. My doc that is. He put the date back to the original date. The delivery date that is. He told me how many calls he had to make, who he had to talk to, and finally, that he changed the date back. He also told me that after yesterday, if I do go into labor, he's not stopping it. The nurse came in and gave me another gift bag. You know how when you are first pregnant they give you the goodie bag full of prenatals and formula sign-ups (although a certain company may be rethinking that thanks to the remarkably well written letter by CLC) and the magazines about your baby's growth...I have received that particular 'gift' bag 6 times, well, 7 actually, once I left it in the office on purpose and then this last time I never even took it out of my trunk. I didn't want another one to line up against the wall in my closet, like the others, filled with unfulfilled life and unused vitamins and a few ultrasound pictures that gave promise to a future that was not to be.
Yesterday I got this new bag. It's a diaper bag, it's filled with ice packs for keeping breast milk cool, a changing pad, a carry all that rolls up all tidy for holding and organizing diaper changing essentials, and some magazines about caring for your newborn. I didn't open when she gave it to me. She handed it to me and said, "Here you go darling, since you're at the beginning of the end of this whole thing." That one is still sitting in my car. Opened, thanks to my daughter who loves a goodie bag, but not brought in to the inner sanctum.
This weekend as we set our clocks back and attend soccer games and swim meets, we will be frantically trying to get our house ready for the potential of a live baby. We put it off as long as we could, waiting to see if the efforts would be futile. I know they still can be. But what if they aren't. What if?
P.S. Please go over and give my beautiful friend C., some extra love and hand holding as she remembers her sweet little boy Callum, lost to all of us one year ago today.