Yesterday Josh and I had to run some errands, which involved us going to the mall. I need a few more maternity t-shirts and Josh...you know I'm not sure what he needed, but I forced him to join me just the same.
In an effort to not relive the frustration that is buying maternity clothes with 2 months of pregnancy left, I will condense the event. Basically, the people who make maternity clothes should be shot. The manufacturers know you will be wearing these clothes for less than a year, and yet they cost as much, if not more, than "normal" clothes. The lady in the store even said something to effect of me needing to do this again whenever I have my next baby. LIKE HELL! I'm wearing these same clothes for every pregnancy and if we end up having three, I'm sure the clothes will still be very cute...cute meaning full of holes, but whatever. I have my maternity uniform and here is what is consists of: big-fat elastic waisted paints that I could probably pull up over my boobs, a maternity tank top and some sort of cardigan. Occasionally, since it has been warmer, I may mix things up with a dress, but basically the aforementioned ensemble is what I wear. Clearly, its timeless.
So much for condensing that part of the story...
When Josh and I go to the mall, I have to prep Josh about a week ahead of time and promise we can go out to lunch and we MUST go to the book store while we are at the mall. It's a Borders, if you are curious.
I found the books I was looking for and handed them to Josh, so I could go to the bathroom (see previous entries. I have visited more bathrooms in the State of Maryland in the last 7 months than I ever have ever in my life ever.)
Oh my way to the bathroom is where the emotion, again, came into play. I saw a pretty girl, about my age sitting in one of those over sized chairs that are always tucked away in a corner in those books stores.
She was holding a teeny tiny precious baby boy.
She was holding him so that he was facing her. He was wearing a little blue striped cardigan. They were quietly studying each other's faces. Just watching each other. Both totally unaware of what was going on around them. They were in this very cool, mom and new baby son vacuum of existence.
I have made an effort in my life to not be a jealous person. I genuinely try, and usually am, happy for people when good things happen to them. However, I was intensely jealous of this woman.
I interrupted their moment to ask how old he was. She said about 2 and a half weeks. She asked me how much longer I had and I told her 2 months. Her son's name is Finley, Fin for short. I told her I was having a boy and naming him Parker. This was a first baby for each of us. She told me it is really hard in the beginning, but the smile on her face overshadowed the words coming out of her mouth. I never asked her name, she didn't ask mine, but there was a
camaraderie between us I thought.
I was just struck by how these two people, the mom and Fin, were so enthralled with each other that the rest of the world not only went silent, but it's like there never was a world around them. I have a friend at work who just had a baby in February, another boy named Josh. She said that when he was born and she was sitting in the hospital bed holding him, just staring at him. Taking in every thing about him, she was unaware of her surroundings and the people witnessing the bonding session between her and Josh. She said she has seen pictures of that day and looking back, never realized how many people were actually in the room with her at that point. Have you seen the movie Waitress? I highly recommend it, Josh even liked it. At the end, Keri Russell's character has a baby girl. I know it's a movie, but the same thing happens to her. It seems like everything is really just starting for these women. Like that silence, the moment of studying this new person is really where it all begins.
I cannot wait to be sitting with Parker in the hospital after he comes, in a bookstore, at the park, reading to him and the world around us just...doesn't matter.