Four Months

I have a deceptively young face, such that when I showed up at my local polling place to cast my ballot, the election judges asked me if I was old enough to vote. Strangers regularly assume that I'm still in college, or even in high school. And I can forget about buying drinks or seeing an R-rated movie without my ID. (The looks and snide comments I get from strangers when buying pregnancy tests is no thrill ride either.) As a result of this, I'm actually really really bad at guessing the age of others. I can't assume that anyone is as young as they look, because others can't make that assumption about me.

Not so with children. I know children. I grew up with a lot of kids, thanks to the daycare my parents ran in our home, and I've helped care for dozens of children of various ages for over a decade. I can accurately estimate the age of an infant, toddler, or young child with a glance, and I'm familiar with the developmental milestones that kids typically reach as they age. I can easily recognize developmental outliers ("Wow, she's TALL for six months!"). I just know kids.

If I'd given birth in August, we would now have a child almost four months old. It may sound odd to have a favorite developmental period, but I do. And it starts at four months. I've found the time between four and eighteen months to be the most fun, the most exciting, and among the most adventerous (for us, the parents; not necessarily for the child). It's not like the fun and excitement of being a parent suddenly stops once a child approaches two; but it does change to a different brand of fun. I simply adore kids at that age and I have always looked forward to sharing that time with my own child.

The holidays are going to be rough on me this year. This time last year, I was pregnant and didn't know it yet. I spent Thanksgiving with my family, gorged on turkey, and joked with my cousins and aunts, completely unaware of what was going on inside me. I'd hoped that this Thanksgiving would be different, that I would have a new baby to introduce to them. And even after the loss, I thought that I would be pregnant again by now, but we don't even have that news to share. I thought that this holiday would be particularly special, in that the family that I only see once a year would finally welcome me as a mother, as my cousins were before me, and that they would welcome my son as one of their own, as I was before him.

I've started to cry, and that's no good since I'm at work right now, so I'm just going to end this entry now. Sorry for the abruptness, friends.