::my head::

Right now I am going through the stage of grief I have titled =  "ripped off"

I am really mad that my belly is not growing.

I am really annoyed that I don't get to find out that I am having a boy on Thursday.  And be so excited but surprised and shocked.  Then get to work finding him the coolest used baby stuff in Indianapolis.  While I keep building up how super pumped I am to hold this baby and smell him and kiss him.  Then we get months of fighting about what to name him.  I want something crazy, Josh wants something way more normal.  Then we decide but I still constantly waver and on the way to the hospital I try to get him to change the name to something totally off.  He refuses.  The whole family and friends come to the hospital and I squeeze out a 8lb 7oz baby guy.  Every one is so excited and it takes them a hour to each get a 5 minute turn to hold him. 

Then we take him home and get readjusted to life with the new guy.  Sleepless nights and never getting to put on a shirt.  Sending the big kids to the pool with the sitter while new man and I nap and relax.  Then he starts smiling and every one begins arguing over who can make him smile the best.  While I know that right now he loves me best because they can't feed him.   I could keep going till he gets drafted to the NFL...

I am really mad that I don't get him.  I know that I get another baby.  Maybe two.  I feel really confident that we will get pregnant again and have another baby.  But I want the baby we lost AND another baby.  I wanted him so bad.  The good the bad the ugly, I wanted him so bad.   It's like a physical need.  I crave him and I miss him.

I just feel like a spoiled brat.  I want to throw myself on the ground and pound my fist and demand my baby RIGHT NOW!!!!  No one can hand me my 8lb baby and say congratulations.  And that makes me really mad.  I want my way.  I want my baby and I want all the things he should have been.  But feeling ripped off is not really part of adult Brooke's vocab.  Teenager Brooke loved that routine.  But grown up Brooke counts her blessings and moves on.      

Now - with that tantrum behind me lets refocus.  The curly headed flying squirrel is warm and snug in his bed.  Visions of trying to fly in his head.  My little Lily just strapped on her back pack and ran down the driveway to get the bus.  While we scream things to each other "I love you"  "I love you too!"  "You look pretty"  "Thanks Mommy"  "Be a model citizen today!!!!!"  "OK Mommy"  I love that tradition.  Josh is warm and comfy in our bed.  I think I will try to sneak back in and go back to sleep.  Thanks for letting me vent.