The loneliness I didn’t expect.  I knew about the disappointment, the sadness, the questioning.  I  knew that a hug from him and a hard session at the gym would be both healing and give me a false feeling of being in control, but the loneliness caught me by surprise.  It took me time to identify.  I’m feeling the blahs.  I’m feeling just tired.  I’m maybe coming down with something.  And when I did finally put a word to what had moved into my heart, I was bowled over.  I am lonely for a creature who doesn’t yet exist.  I am lonely for a reason to stay home when fall comes, a reason to love my man and my body in a different way, I am lonely for the disruption of our almost perfect, almost quiet and tidy little white-walled, white-carpeted life.  

I did not see myself in the lab’s chair making a list of all of the worse things: bears, spiders, cancer.  I did not see us crying on the bed before the first round of tests.  I did not see myself needing a Target trip so badly after the second round.  Didn’t expect people to apologize for talking about their own babies, pregnancies: I didn't count on the filtering and I still cannot get used to the quiet voices, the concern— that breaks me.  But the loneliness nearly swept me away after the last phone call and I could almost hear a long awaited voice say I’m sorry, I’m not on my way yet.  Maybe soon.