I’m grateful to have discovered that I probably don’t need any new maternity clothes. I was worried that because I was pregnant with Hudson at exactly the opposite time of year than this time, I might need to stock up on some winter maternity clothes. But I sorted through everything this weekend and found that I bought enough pairs of pants for work last time that they will probably get me through most of this pregnancy. And I’ve got some versatile sweaters that should do me for warmth. That’s good, because it is not the easiest thing for me to shop for maternity clothes among what appear to me to be worry-free, happy pregnant women (and often, their children). But I should certainly know that one can never know what kind of burden people are carrying just by looking at them—as much it feels like the sorrow just comes out of my pores, I doubt anyone looks at me and sees how sad I am (well, with the exception of the guy at the intersection I crossed on Friday afternoon who rolled down his car window to yell at me, “Don’t look so sad! Smile a little!”) or imagines what I have lost. But still, I’m glad to know that I don’t have to spend any more time in a maternity shop unless I really want to.
This may sound like a backward bit of thanks, but I’m thankful nonetheless.