chicken, michaels and a realization

Of the people I've talked to that read my blog, 100% have asked if I ate the chicken. I didn't mean to be vague but yes. I did eat the chicken even though it appeared Sammy tried to stop me yet again. And it was delish. In fact, I had the exact same chicken for lunch again today. Well, not the exact same, but from the same restaurant. It continues to be one of the many mysteries of pregnancy...how one day all these little quirks show up and in one long day 8 1/2 - 9 months later the quirks disappear. I had a lotta quirks (yes I said *had* - hush Dad).

Remember the other day when I went to Michaels and saw a baby and it made me sad? Guess what I saw last night at Michaels when I was trying to exchange a picture book? Another brand new baby, this time a boy. It was not a good day yesterday anyway. Can someone tell my why all these people are taking brand new babies to Michaels? Target - duh - but Michaels? It'll be a good while before I go back in there.

I didn't cry in the store but almost as I watched the daddy check his phone with one hand as he gently bounced the baby in his other arm...I started wondering how little (or big really) Sammy's feet would look hanging out of Dave's arms as he checked his phone. I guess this is how it'll be now. Wondering how it could have been. Most of the time I understand and accept that this is how it was meant to be for us and Sammy. He lived his days and started making his mark here...

And if I'm completely honest - really I can't imagine a scenario in which I talked Dave into carrying Sammy around Michaels while I shop. They totally woulda been chillin' in the car. But then if I really think about it (these hormones are no joke people) the chances that I would have gone shopping with a week old son are pretty slim...wouldn't have needed a distraction or been so purposeful about *not* wearing maternity clothes this soon.

That's been my weekend. Trying to distract myself and not spend the whole thing crying. My eyes haven't been this puffy since the week of our anatomy ultrasound. Thinking about that brought me to a realization this morning at church (epic fail = trying not to cry my first day back at church). I don't really like crying in front of people, mostly because I don't like my cry face or cry voice, but also because I feel like it's just stating the obvious to say why/what's making me cry PLUS I'd have the cry face/voice. *cringe*

Why are you crying?

*I want my baby.

*I shouldn't be walking into church in regular clothes without a baby - remember!?! I was pregnant 2 weeks ago.

*We shouldn't be walking into church as a twosome - remember?!? I was pregnant 2 weeks ago.

Which leads me to my realization about why I appreciate this blog. I can sit here with tears and snot running down my face. I feel ok letting the sadness wash over me, I don't feel like I have to be strong or that I need to "get over it". I realize it's self imposed pressure to be strong and get over it around others but still. I don't know if anyone except Dave and my mom have even seen me cry in the last 10 days (and anyone watching at church this morning I guess) and I bet I've only explained myself a couple times.

This really is cheap therapy and probably reassurance for Dave and my mom that I am processing, even if it's not out loud to them. *sigh*