Warning: Proceed with Caution

I find that I have to censor my mouth much more than I ever have in the past.  For the simple fact that I don't like my thoughts and would hate to say them out loud.  I am normally a pretty outspoken person who doesn't really care how others take what I say or agree or disagree.  Some things, though, are better left unsaid.

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B plays on a softball team on Monday nights.  All the women - wives, girlfriends, moms, etc - come out to support the team.  There are currently three women with young children, all under a year old.  Then there is the one woman with a belly about six months along.

Last night at the game she was whimsically looking at the littles' with so much hope and dreams and excitement about her own little that would soon be here.  She was lost in her thoughts; a warm, sincere smile across her face, her cheeks rosy with love and adoration, the whole world in front of her...

And all I wanted to do was lean over and warn her not to count on it.

I wanted to warn her that may not happen for her.  She may or may not get to chase a wobbling little around, keep them from eating the dirt, or pass them around for everyone to oooh and ahhhh.  She may or may not get to experience the joy of introducing him to others, dressing him up so cute, or bring him to watch Daddy play ball. 

Her baby could die too.

This is very indicative of why I keep my mouth shut.  I remember with such fondness and bitterness the excitement, hopes, and dreams that pregnancy carried.  I would imagine how he'd look and what clothes I'd dress him up in.  I imagined taking him to daddy's games and taking him to my games.  I imagined, imagined, imagined ... I just never imagined him dying.

I could not in good conscious rob her of her hopes.  I could not burst her proverbial bubble.  I wouldn't have wanted mine shattered.  There is a chance it will burst all on its own, however there's also a good chance it won't and next season it will be her baby being oooh'd and ahhh'd over.

I was tempted, though, to remind her to enjoy every single second of her pregnancy.  That as much as she longs for the days of her baby being here to equally appreciate the days she has him all to herself.  To enjoy each kick, each hiccup, each movement her baby makes.  Make mental note and hold on tight to those precious memories of times just as important as once baby arrives.

I didn't, though.  I didn't because I don't want to be the crazy lady, the ones who's a little odd and obsessive.  That's the only reaction I'd expect and that would be okay.  That means they've never endured a loss so large that it completely changes your perspective on the things that are so often taken for granted. 

So I just look away.  I absorb myself elsewhere so I don't drown in the memories of hope.  And I pray.  I pray that someday I can have that look in my eye again, that hope in my heart, that pure love and joy only pregnancy can bring. 

I pray someday that can be me.