If I had to use one word to describe yesterday it would be bittersweet. It wasn't the first, and I know it won't be the last. But it was special, because it was the first time that I have seen Desmond and August together. And oh how bittersweet it was.
Sweet.
I love these girls. We've been inseparable since high school (and before that for Kendra and I). They have been with me during my proudest accomplishments and my lowest moments. And I couldn't picture anyone other girls to continue living and loving life with.
I absolutely cherish the time we get to spend together, especially since our lives have spread us out across the state. What was once only four has changed over the past few years. I am so thankful to watch as our little group has begun to expand, first with Emery, then with Ian, Desmond, and August (and soon to be baby Kennell). It is a joy to watch us turn into moms, and to get to be a part of each others children's lives.
Bitter.
But as I look at this picture, I know one person is missing. As I watched my friends tend to and care for their babies or happily discuss nursery plans and baby showers, I felt left out. Forgotten. Nothing they did was intentional. They never said or did anything that would be viewed as inappropriate. They genuinely care about me. They have never been anything but understanding and supportive of everything that has happened.
That doesn't take away the fact that Ian wasn't there. That doesn't replace the hurt I felt knowing that I will never get to hold my baby again. That I'll never get to watch him grow up. That my friends will never get to see him grow old with their children.
That doesn't change the longing I felt to take the place of one of my friends. To be worried about my back hurting, or tired because my baby still doesn't sleep through the night, or struggling with the idea of using formula instead of breast milk. I would give anything to have their worries and hardships.
That doesn't change the picture they took of Emery holding August and Desmond. The one that should have included one more baby.
That doesn't change anything. But it does mean the world to me. Because even though I don't have any of those things, I do have those three girls. I do have a support system that I could turn to for even the smallest of problems. I do have three sets of ears to listen to me, three sets of shoulders to cry on, and three sets of arms to hug and comfort me. I do have three of the best friends in the world, and I wouldn't change that for anything.
