She's in there. For the last few days I have been able to feel Tate kick both from the outside and inside. Haven't told Brad yet, don't know if I'm going to. I remember being so excited when Turner started moving strongly enough to feel. I wanted Brad to put his hand on my stomach and be as amazed as I was. Well, amazed isn't exactly what I'd call his reaction. He was impatient, if you've ever sat around waiting for a baby to move you know it's sporadic at best.
When we did this the first time I waited til he was done with everything and ask him if he wanted to sit by me. Even when all he was doing was watching TV it seemed to be bothersome to have to touch my stomach. When he finally did feel Turner move his reaction was "OK so I felt it, we're done?" Not the moment that Hallmark paints or the one I hoped for.
Now I just think we'll skip it. It doesn't matter to him and it's easier to not be disappointed again for me. I am pretty far out on the moody side right now anyway. This pregnancy isn't new anymore, the end still seems a long way away. I have been thinking this is it too. The last baby I'll have. I'll have missed being around my sister for all of it. My mom and dad too but mainly Tabba.
I was home at six months pregnant with Turner. Everyone said that I didn't look that different then. We hugged, and all the boy we've missed you crap that usually goes on when I first get in. Tabba started talking to my stomach from the minute I got off the plane. She sat and felt my belly move. She sang to her nephew to be. Most of all she made me feel really special. She was just as excited as I was. She loved him just as much before he was born as she does now.
We've just about decided not to fly home this spring. I'll wait and come home after Tate is born. Save the trip then let everybody meet her in August. I just feel like the biggest thing I have ever done is gonna go by without having my family to be around for it. Tabba won't meet my daughter til she's a couple months old. Which is fine and just how life goes. I always pictured my sister there with me in the delivery room. Why? I have no clue. She's horrible with needles, nudity, and pain but she's really great with the crazy panicked me. Today I am just feeling everyone of those two thousand miles.
I have been worried that I'm missing all of Tabba's big days too. She's getting married and I'm not there to look for her dress. I'm not there to stop by with a picture I saw in a magazine I thought she'd like. Tabba's good to me. She could've had her wedding while I am pregnant and a complete lunatic. I wouldn't have made made it through the service.
Sometimes estrogen is a horrible thing. They should give it to inmates. Make them sit around in the quiet and worry. It would keep them from committing their crimes again, I'm sure of it. I am just feeling heavy. Weighed down by my big body, by all the things I can't go back and change, and sad at all the things I'm missing. I know to not give in to these little guilt trips. For all the things I'm missing there are a million more that I get to be there for. My son's first smile, his first step, and his first word. Those moments were all mine and Turner's. Days spent coloring and singing, sunshine on the playground, and cake batter on our faces. Things I wouldn't trade. I just wish it were easier to mix those days with what we miss when we're gone. I know no one on earth gets everything they want. No amount of money can buy happiness. Look at Donald Trump. One of the world's richest men and he still doesn't have one true friend to tell him how awful his hair is.
I know tomorrow I'll be in a better mood. Tons of people live far away from their families, and none of them die from broken hearts. I'll go back to being OK with it, or at least putting it out of my mind. So off to find some mood elevating chocolate, doesn't that fix everything?
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