A New Wheeler

Today has been…interesting.  It started out as a plain, ‘ol regular Saturday.  Nothing much on the agenda, aside from our weekly outing for lunch and groceries.  We splurged on lunch and went to the Olive Garden.  So not good for the new eating habits we’ve been working on developing, but after being sick for a week, I’m craving fat and carbs.  And I decided to give into the cravings today.  Anyway…

While we were at lunch, I asked James whether he would mind stopping by Babies R Us when we were done, as I wanted to pick up some things for a shower I’m co-hosting next month.  To my surprise, he actually agreed. 

We don’t look at baby stuff.  By we, I mean the two of us together.  I will admit that I can’t seem to help but glance at the baby section while walking past at Wal-Mart.  It’s right next to the food…right on the way to the groceries I have to buy.  On the rare occasion that I’ve gone shopping on my own, I confess that I’ve ventured into the baby section.  I’ve pawed over teeny-tiny, oh-so-cute clothes and marveled at the confusion that must lie within determining *which* pacifier, bottle, etc is the *right* one.  But when James is with me, as he is most times, he is quick to steer me away from it all.  He promises that we’ll spend lots of time in that section some day.  To his credit, I know that he does this with the best of intentions.  He wants to save me from the pain of remembering that we don’t have anyone to buy those items for…don’t know when, or if, we ever will. 

And, yet, somehow, the two of us wound up in our local Babies R Us.  From the moment James agreed, I started giving myself stern talkings-to about not dawdling in the store.  I know that he *hates* shopping as it is.  And I know how he feels about protecting our hearts from all things “baby.”  So, I told myself, this would be the quick trip I had promised him.  Inside.  Print registry.  Buy item.  There wasn’t even any looking to be done, as I’d already looked at the registry online and decided what to buy. 

There was a line at the registry computer.  And a lovely CLEARANCE sign on the clothing rack just across the aisle from the computer.  Those two things together, that’s what started it all.  I decided to check out the clothes on the rack while waiting for our turn in line.  Harmless enough, I suppose.  But I got lost in the cuteness of the clothes.  I moved onto another rack, then another.  And James had to call my attention over to the fact that the registry computer was now available.  Okay.  Reality check.  Print registry, buy items, get the hell out of here. 

Except, I had to use the restroom.  All the way at the back of the store.  Head down, on a mission, I made my way to the restroom, managing to pay just enough attention to not run into anyone and little enough not to notice anything.  I’d left James waiting for me near the clothing section.  It should have been easy enough to make my way back to him in same manner in which I’d left for the restroom.  But this time, I didn’t even manage to not run into anyone (well, actually, she ran into me, but still…).  And I sure as hell didn’t manage to pay no attention to any of the items I passed.  Right there, at the very front of the furniture section, was a crib and dresser that seemed to be jumping up and down to grab my attention.  It was beautiful.  And I just had to show James.

And suddenly, we’d been in the store for two hours.  I’d managed to pick up the items I’d gone for (as well as some extras for the shower).  And James and I had browsed through several areas of the store.  In my defense, he was a willing partner through some of it.  A couple of the aisles were even ones that he started down on his own, though I was more than happy to follow.  But now he’d had enough.  His back and feet hurt.  He was tired of shopping.  In the mean time, an internal tug-of-war was taking place in my brain.  We needed to leave.  I’d spent way more money than I’d intended to.  We had other errands to get done.  But I didn’t want to go anywhere.  I wanted to stay there, dreaming, hoping, planning.  With my husband by my side, an active participant of those hopes and dreams.  Forever.

A fellow blogger (Emily at Emily the Hopeless) just posted yesterday regarding her need to actively plan for the day that she and her husband have a child.  I cried when I read her post.  Today, I understood why. 

My husband thinks that I shouldn’t engross myself in the baby “stuff” yet.  He feels like we should focus on the treatments right now.  This is difficult enough.  Why subject yourself to more pain by looking at all of that?  He wants to protect me.  He sees how much it hurts.  The moment the excited glimmer in my eye is taken over by a furrowing brow as I wonder if we’ll ever get our turn to worry about making those pesky decisions about pacifiers.  He doesn’t want me to hurt any more than I already do.

He doesn’t understand that, without those fleeting moments of excitement, I wouldn’t be able to endure all of this.  Looking at baby stuff, dreaming up an amazing nursery, talking to James about how we’ll raise our children.  These are the things that help me to remain hopeful.  Help me to believe.

He wants to protect our hearts from the pain.  I *need* to nurture the hope.

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