Got a Kleenex?

Today I claim the right to be a total crybaby. I'm not even going to apologize for making something big out of what is, essentially, an exciting, wonderful, yadda, yadda, thing. (See entry below.)

Today I just had to allow myself to let it go.

Why today?

Well, March 29, 1981 was the date that my first child was due to arrive. I spent that entire day in a flurry of anticipation, and it was by turns terrifying and exhilarating because we were going to get to meet our baby -- if the calendar and the expert was correct.

We had no idea what we were going to have. Few people did, or wanted to find out back in those days. All we knew was that March 29, 1981 had every chance of being the day we finally got to meet the little one who had consumed our lives for months and months. Waiting for the moment we could say "hello" -- live and in person, was sweet agony.

So here I was, just casually remembering for no particular reason, the anniversary of this due date, when it hit me. Twenty-six years later, with emotions running nearly that same gamut, we are waiting for the moment we have to say "goodbye."

And that just got me in a very tender place, and since I can hardly bear it right at this exact moment I had to put it out here in the universe. Letting it go through the words I'm typing might make it stop hurting so out of proportion.

I always tell my friends that it's not fair to hold in your pain just because you don't think it measures up to what others are going through. Hurt is hurt.

For once in my life, I'm taking my own advice.