Loved

So Andrew got these tickets to The Cards Monday Night Football game back in Sept. He has been talking about it and has been over joyed for this day. He said I must attend with him and he was inviting one of his closest friends and his wife (whom I love). So I said "sure" thinking Nov. 10th is far away and whatever. Well as the time got closer I started doing my usual duck and cover figuring ways to weasel out. I said maybe he should go with "the guys", when that didn't work I threw the whole no babysitter routine, to where his response was get on the phone with our niece and plan her stay the night (worked out great with a holiday today) so I was stuck. The game started at 6:30pm, it is on the other side of the state, might as well be CA so I knew this would be a long night. What I didn't realize was how many freaking commercial breaks they need for a MNF game. I mean seriously. I tend to do math when I am in situations out of my control as a way to figure out how much longer I will be there and go from there. I figured it took 45 minutes to play 15 minutes of football the first two quarters, the third went by nicely at less than 45 min THEN WTH the 4th quarter was worse than paint drying. Ok not really, it was in all reality an awesome game, but a flag was thrown on almost every play the entire last qtr, it took more than 30 min to play 4 minutes of football. I am not exaggerating. I am pregnant. I wake up with kids through out the night. I was tired, cold and uncomfortable. Yes it was a good game. Cards won, barely. Kurt Warner is incredibly hot, yes those are true facts, but to take 4 hours to play 1 hour of football is beyond ridiculous. And yes I said I was cold. The roof was open and it was a bit chilly. I have no idea how the Packers fans sit out in that weather and cheer on their team. I mean it was down near 60 degrees last night. I was cold!
So I had a lot to think about while I sat there for 4 hours, of course not while they were actually playing, but while the refs went flag crazy, and the commercial breaks were taken and the breaks by the teams.... I thought about how fast this pregnancy is going and I got sad. Baby Ollie was a mad man during the game and I couldn't help but think, will I be on the side lines watching him one day, of course God willing... still waiting for those test results that I feel could make this pregnancy be very stressful. But again God willing, will I be watching my baby boy play football one day? Or soccer or whatever he chooses, but he will choose one day. This is the last time I will be punched in the rib, tickled on my sides and kicked in my bladder. This is the only time he will be all mine, all the time and that made me sad. With the girls I just wanted the pregnancy to be over, I wanted to hold my baby, and I do want to hold him, but I think when there is a finality of knowing you will never experience this amazing feeling, then you really don't want it to go away. I truly do love the feeling of growing a child. That is a weird way of putting it, but that is what happens when a seed is planted, right? And well that is what happened. So anyway I thought about that. Then I was watching the filmographers next to us and saw a guy using actual film and that brought up so many old memories. I remember watching a special talking about how NFL is the only sports organization to still use actual film and it was interesting to see if be done. I was thinking about how in 8th grade my photography class we had to use those black bags you put your arms in the put film into. I was thinking about the dark room and the smells and how much fun that class was. And I wondered what do they do in photography class now? It is all digital, do kids even get to develop their film? Then I thought man I am old. I took typing on an actual type writer and I actually developed my own film in photography. Then I thought about how when I modeled it was shoot and hope you get it. You would have to wait for the film to be developed and get a call that said "we got it!" or "we need to re shoot!" I thought about how glad I am that when I modeled it was the 90's and I was allowed to have hips and be a *gasp* size 6!
I thought about the fact that even though I wasn't doing what I wanted to be doing. I wanted to be in bed. I wanted to have put my kids in their beds. But my husband wanted me to be with him and share in his excitement. He wanted me, not his buddies, me. And that thought made me hold his hand and kiss his cheek.
I felt lucky. I felt loved.
And even at a time that I wasn't my happiest. At a time that I feel there is this cloud over me and until I get the results it will be there and I don't want to think about the results if they aren't what I want. All that didn't matter. Doesn't matter. I'm loved. Whatever happens we will make it through and isn't that all that really matters?