I remember back at the beginning, when there was still the excitement.
I looked online at articles with titles like “Cute Ways to Tell Your Husband You’re Pregnant!”. I’ve never liked those types of public announcements, where posts to social media were supposed to be cute but (IMO) were a little cringey!
I didn’t have the desire to share joy with everyone, but my sentimental husband would have appreciated something meaningful to mark our next big step.
I had a little note pinned to my office wall to remind me of the idea I came up with. Cut a Land Rover stencil out, create a stenciled image on a onesie. Wrap, gift.
But as time went on, that joy and excitement wavered.
When it happens, will be be excited or scared?
Do we take for granted that our struggle is over and that we will have a baby to fill that piece of clothing?
When the time came, a cute announcement didn’t even cross my mind. A faint positive isn’t much to get your hopes up on, and then the worry about organising and waiting for blood test results means our excitement was put on hold.
I hadn’t even thought of this again until today. That piece of paper has long gone off my office wall, I don’t even remember taking it down.
I feel like we have been robbed of so much.
The naivety, the innocence. When I hear about someone getting pregnant easily with a planned baby, I just can’t fathom it! You decide to have a baby and then you get pregnant and have the baby? That is so far beyond my comprehension that it seems like a movie. You mean, that *actually* happens in real life?
We didn’t purposely do anything sentimental for that pregnancy, we had a couple of weeks of rollercoaster emotions with no chance to settle in one spot. But my husband had bought an old Land Rover a few days before we got that light pink line, and so I was a little over 4 weeks pregnant when he travelled a few hours to pick it up.
I’d forgotten about that with the chaos and heartache that followed.
But he remembered, telling me some months ago that it’s special to him because of that time, because it marks a memory, even though it’s ended up being a sad one.
Maybe it’s paralleling our life that he’s still restoring that Land Rover almost 2 years later, as we are still also restoring our hearts and working towards our finish. That he’s spent years stripping it back, pulling it apart and now slowly putting it back again. I feel like maybe that’s us too, coming to accept what is, trying to find ways around the rust.
Piecing our future back together with the hand we have been dealt.