Thursday, February 13, 2014

finding out.

I got home a little after 10:45 p.m. on the night of the 29th.  The night J and I would learn if we had achieved what we wanted more than anything in life.

As soon as I stepped in the door, I dropped my bags and hugged him.  It had been so hard to concentrate through class, to keep my stomach settled, to know that this most-anticipated message was in my pocket.

We looked at each other and decided to listen -- even though I think we almost preferred not to.

I hit play on the message, and my nurse didn't sound joyful.  I knew she wasn't delivering good news.  She said, "I wish so badly I had better news to deliver."

And it was over.  It was all over.

I started nodding my head quietly, tears starting to form.  I had prepared myself for this because I "didn't feel pregnant," whatever that means.  But I didn't feel it.

J put his arms around me, and the tears started to fall.

The message ended, and I just kept nodding.  And it was over.

It was over, and I had to go to bed because I had to leave the house at 6:30 the next morning to observe a high school teacher in another city.  Life was going on as usual, even though I wasn't ready.

It was over, and that was all.

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