Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Could Have Been Me

This morning, I was about to pull into a parking spot, and I saw a yellow diamond shaped banner on a car an SUV away from the spot I had my eye on.

I forgot to breathe for a second. It really was not what the sign said that got to me. I have a few friends who are pregnant right now and even more that have babies. I'm used to managing my feelings about my loss of baby. But this  "BABY ON BOARD" yellow caution sign was on a car exactly like mine. Exact make. Exact model. Exact color.

Before I had a chance to wrangle the thought, it flew out of my head: "That could have been me." *sigh*  I pulled into my spot and glanced to see if the car was really real. Yep. Still there.

I drew in a big breath. No, it was not me. The sadness left as quickly as it came. I opened the car door, reached in and grabbed my camera gear. I was a woman on a mission. I have been working on a shot for a chronic pain photo contest for weeks and today was the day I needed to get the shot. The thought of the car faded into the background.

After my hour and a half long photo shoot, I was back in the parking lot opening the door of my rather dirty blue Saturn coupe.  I looked up when I saw a young woman about my age and smartly dressed walking toward me. She had said, "Hey!" I saw a Bluetooth in her ear and assumed she was not talking to me, so I simply smiled and got in my car.

As I was reaching to pull my door closed, I looked to my left and saw that the young woman was the owner of the identical Saturn on the other side of the SUV between us. She had probably thought I was getting in her car.

Her car. Her life.

It could have been me.

But instead, I chose my own.

 Mine is dirty and probably not what you'd chose if you were looking at it from a far.

But, I chose it. I am thankful for it. And the more I am thankful for it, the more happiness I find.

1 comment:

  1. Oh my dear, I understand so much.
    Just a couple of months ago Stuart and I were going through the steps to become foster parents. Then I had a relapse.
    I just don't know any more. Unless I can get some more definitive answers from the doctors, I can't bring a child in this house. Especially, a damaged child.

    Stuart hasn't given up the dream yet. I have a sense of doom about it. I don't want to give up, but I don't want to fail a child either.

    Friends of ours (really he's a more of a friend of Stuart's and I'm a friend by default)are having a baby. I just got the invitation to the baby shower. Oh, how I do not want to go to this event. Would it be terrible, if I just sent a gift?
    I just don't know if I can stand all the baby talk (almost ALL of our friends have had babies in the past few years.) And I can't talk about this loss I feel with them.
    I'll hear so much of , I'm so glad you could come...you look so good!

    I hate that. People just assume you feel better because you look good that day. Well, you have no idea what it took to get me this way! : )

    I am looking forward to another friend's little girl's first birthday. But I love that family. I like the way they parent. I like that their whole life is not just babies now. (even though...oops, they had the second one before the first one was two...actually, just a couple of months after he was one) Poor planning, but they are making it work, and seem so happy

    sorry I rambled.

    I'm happy we can find hope.
    There's always hope.