Cries At Desk

Privately, I used to think of myself as "Homestead Mom (Cries In Car)", since I did it so much during the 3ish years of infertility that Homestead Mama suffered, and I suffered through alongside her. She is not an emoter. I am not a 'keep it to myself/ inside' kind of girl. I was trying to be big about it, and not draw her attention to our/my misery as we tromped through the unfriendly, soul-wrenching terrain of one negative pregnancy test after another, one miscarriage after another. I did a lot of crying alone in my car, to and from work, to the store. I have been known to, on occasion, create an errand to to so I can get a little crying in.

Now, I am sitting at my desk tearing up, fighting the lump in my throat lest I get an actual business call. In my belly, deep down somewhere, I can feel fluttering and kicking and know that the fetus is alive. The crying is not just joyful, it is grateful. I can't do it without a mental nod to the past, but it is all about the future. Monito* (little Monkey), the winner of the nickname poll, seems to be here to stay.

Now we are (both) going to go fetch an ice cream sandwich to celebrate. Like we don't do this every day about this time. :)

Homestead Mom

*We called Pequita the female version of the nickname, with an A on the end, without knowing her sex ahead of time. To be fair, we are using Monito - with a masculine O on the end - still with no knowledge of the sex of the fetus. I swear!