package seems much larger than what I remember using in the past, but
it must be my memory playing tricks on me. I had to lug it around on
public transport for an hour, which stressed me a bit, because the
meds have to be kept cool. Missing my connection didn't help. I
realized later that even a winter's day so mild it feels like spring
is around the corner still qualifies as cool.
That night, my younger brother and his wife swung round for a surprise
visit. I didn't see it coming, but I bet you've already guessed. They
came over to announce that Linnea is going to have a niece or nephew
early this fall. For the first time in ages, I can honestly say my
first reaction was one of joy. Very refreshing.
Being equally honest, the irony wasn't lost on me. Here I am with my
big heap of meds, and there they are having a baby. Thank goodness we
already have Linnea.
All Linea's baby gear that she's grown out of has been put in storage.
Each time I added a box, I've hoped I'd be unpacking it in a near
future for a new baby, a sibling for Linnea. Also, I thought about how
I would probably be lending this to nieces or nephew's of Linnea at
some time in the future. (This is my excuse to buy more stuff than
really necessary, it will serve more than one child). I didn't expect
it to be so soon though.
I think lending that stuff out will be good for me, help me detach
myself from it and what it symbolizes. The longer we try, struggle and
fail, the more those boxes will mock me. Deep down I'm not
particularly optimistic about the upcoming cycle. There's no good
reason why, but still it's how I feel. I've been bad about taking my
pre-natal vitamins (tsk, tsk!).
I've already promised to lend our crib and baby carriage to my
brother. I can't imagine needing them upcoming fall through spring.
Cue a wave of self-pity.
Thank goodness we already have Linnea. I don't know how I would have
coped with the news otherwise.