My old favorite place

I survived Target the other day. It is only the second time I have stepped in the store since Lincoln was born. That is saying something considering it used to be one of my favorite places. The sticking point is the same can be said for all moms out there. There were 4 babies and a pregnant woman. I didn’t cry this time. Being in public or attending functions is a whole new experience for me. I wonder if people might recognize me or if they haven’t seen me in a while, do they know what has happened. When they ask me how I am, are they making conversation or do they really want to know? Do I even want to talk about what I have been living and see that sadness creep into their eyes or do I just give the standard answer of fine and move on? I also get eaten up with envy of the sweet babies the other mothers are carrying or pushing and the ripe pregnant bellies carrying new life. My body aches for those moments I dreamed of with Lincoln. I never got to cuddle or soothe him during a wedding when he was fussy or try to keep him entertained as we waited in a long checkout line. I think back to the days that I felt him move, how he would kick me or push into my ribs until I could hardly breathe. What I would give to feel those moments again. I know the next time I walk into someplace I may see a baby and have to hide in the bathroom while the grief and pain passes. But I will consider this a step forward for now.


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