Take a breath

This morning, I got in my car, and the "low tire pressure" light was on. I thought "well, thats annoying, guess I'll have to get air sometime". Then, I noticed it was really loud in the car, and I had to turn the music up really loud just to be able to hear it. After a couple of miles, I had concluded that the sound was coming from the rear of the car, so I moved my side view mirror, only to see my rear tire completely flat, and I was driving on my rim. I pulled over, and called DJ to come help me put the spare on. (for the record, I can change a tire, but figured at 8 months pregnant with low amniotic fluid, I should not be doing that sort of thing). After putting the spare on, I went to get a new tire put on.

At the tire place, the front counter guy was making small talk while they tried to find me a tire. He asked when I am due. I told him. He asked if it was my first baby, I told him it was my second. He asked if it was a boy or a girl, I told him it was a boy. Then the conversation went like this:

Counter guy: "oh, I bet daddy is really excited"

Me: "He is excited, but he wanted a girl, since we already have a boy"

Counter guy: "I can understand that, but all that matters is that he is healthy"

Me: "......................yep"

I had to step back and just breathe for a minute. Every ounce of me knows that if I was in his shoes, I would have said the exact same thing. I know exactly what he means. I know that there isn't a sign on my forehead that says "The baby I am carrying has a very rare congenital heart defect and he will go through more shit in the first week of his life than most of us endure throughout our entire lives". But the protective, mama bear in me wanted to scream at him that it isn't that simple, that not all babies are healthy. That my baby has a broken heart. Instead, I of course smiled politely and continued about my business. It was just a reminder that aside from our close personals, and the other heart families, parents of special needs children, etc. we are alone in this.

Back on May 22nd, when we got Wyatt's diagnosis, I eventually posted to Facebook about it. I told everyone that we were having a boy, as we also got that news that day, and then explained that he had been diagnosed with HLHS, and gave a very brief explanation. We received many positive, uplifting, supportive comments. But one person, who apparently either can't read, or didn't take the time to read my entire status, said something to the tune of "all that matters is that he is healthy". I was pissed. My best friend was pissed. DJ was pissed. That, of course, was a different situation than the one I experienced today. I wasn't pissed at the counter guy, just taken back a bit.

Again, I am finding it interesting the way this all plays into our daily lives, the way it makes me feel, the way it changes my gut reactions. And I am sure that once Wyatt is here, it will change even further, and even more drastically.

But, we ended the day well. I have been making new recipes I find on pinterest, and tonight, Austyn helped me make Taco Pie in his cute little Mario pajamas. It was one of those moments where you can't help but smile at your sweet, wanna be helpful, 6 year old.