April 06, 2010
My husband is in DC for the funeral service for the soldier in his company who was killed on deployment.
We had an FRG meeting last week, and the unit provided details for the families who would be heading to Arlington for the service. As I sat there holding my new baby, the baby who looks just like my husband, all I could think about was this soldier's wife. His pregnant wife. Pregnant with a little girl...
When I thought I'd go into labor before my husband came home, I had a meltdown. I couldn't make myself go to the hospital. I was packing my suitcase while weeping, in agony that things had not gone as I'd wanted them to go, that it wasn't supposed to be this way, that he was supposed to be here with me and for me. I wanted to stay in complete denial and refuse to go to the hospital. I felt deep in my bones that I just couldn't have that baby without him, that despite how capable I am, this was the one thing I couldn't handle on my own.
And I think of this woman whose husband won't be there at all when her baby is born, and I can't stand it. I am sick for her. Just sick.
I'm so thankful for my husband and child.
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