Dipping my toe in

Tomorrow normal life starts all over again. Lovely is still tracked out from school, so she and I will have the beginning part of the day together, and that will be nice. However, Guy goes back to work.

It has just occurred to me that I'm quite scared for him to be away from me for that long and not be able to help me through whatever meltdown I might have. Luckily, having Lovely at home will be a good transition into what is going to eventually be a lot of alone time for me.

I start teaching again tomorrow at 3:00. I can do this. They are such wonderful kids, and I am looking forward to seeing them again. I'm not worried about getting back to work.

Last night, Guy and I ventured out into a social setting. Bassman called and said that he was playing nearby, opening for Don Dixon. Guy wanted to go and Papa was already here, so Guy asked him if he could stay with Lovely while we went out for a little bit to hear some music. Papa said he would and that I needed to get out of the house. Stay as long as we like. He is awesome.

At first, it was fine. We found a place in the back corner and entertained ourselves by being snotty about everyone and everything around us. It's not for real, but just this thing we do between the two of us. Guy had me laughing and almost relaxed. Then it happened. The one thing I dread most.

Someone saw us. She started towards us and I began trying to run down in my mind if she knew I was pregnant. I leaned into Guy and braced myself for it.

"Congratulations! I heard you are pregnant, and we are so excited"

Guy interrupted and said that I had lost the baby. I sort of hate that phrase. Like I just misplaced him somewhere. He was here just a minute ago, now let me think . . . But Guy covered me, protected me, while I just turned away so that I wouldn't have to see her face as he told her. I knew that it was most likely one of two reactions. Sympathy or embarrassment. I asked Guy later which it was. Embarrassment. I thought it probably was.

The bands were good. The music was enjoyable. I had a couple of beers. It was all fine and dandy until I had to go to the ladies room. It was clear across the bar from us and for whatever reason, I just didn't want to go. I almost had a panic attack trying to get up, leave Guy, walk through all the people, and pee. I don't understand that at all.

But I did it. Regardless of my unfounded fears, I went by myself. This is the type of thing that I consider an accomplishment these days.

Go me. I peed all on my own.

It's a wonder there is anybody left reading by this point.