I’ve got to admit that I’m scared. I know in my head that I’m capable, but I’m scared of messing “it” up. Whatever “it” is in my life at the moment. I doubt myself in my heart.
After each miscarriage I experienced serious self-doubt. My body was broken. I was broken. Obviously there must be something wrong with me or I wouldn’t have lost my babies. Right? But, that was all in my head. I knew in my heart that wasn’t true.
Then I lost Kalis.
Tuesday was a rough day. My baby was getting a tooth and needing a lot of mommy-time. Rather than the 10 AM grocery trip I’d planned, we ended up in the grocery line closer to 5 PM. I was there with my baby in the Ergo and my dinner in my basket waiting to check out, when a woman (probably mid-20’s) in the next line sweetly asks, “Don’t you do that at home?”
“What?” I ask, somewhat confused. I was just minding my own business and didn’t expect to be addressed (though I had an idea of what was coming next).