Today I returned to work after having been gone since my water broke on April 7. Since it was such an unexpected leave of absence, I didn't get to de-pregnant my office before I left. So today I came back to:
A calendar on the wall still turned to April, with huge circles around the 20th, when I would have been 20 weeks (halfway!!) and when the gender ultrasound was originally scheduled. Also marked: this Friday the 14th, when I would have been 24 weeks and reached V-Day. June 2nd, when I would have been in the 3rd trimester. And obviously September 3, my due date.
A container of almonds on my desk, which I was snacking on to give my baby DHA and those all-important Omega 3s. I wanted a smart baby! [Little did I know that I should have just wanted a live baby.]
An ultrasound picture taped to my computer.
Two bags of Belly Bars on my bookshelf.
A drawer full of Easter candy that I'd purchased before I left.
A piece of paper taped to the wall where I'd calculated how many weeks I'd be each Friday.
A stack of Post-It notes I'd used to make a countdown of how long we had until we found out if our baby was a boy or girl.
A list of things that I had to do before I quit or went part time, as was the plan for when after the baby was born.
Coming here, it was like I'm still pregnant. I spent an hour cleaning out my office. Putting each thing in the trash or scribbling out each notation on the calendar was like a knife in my heart. You stab are twist no rub salt longer repeat pregnant.