Heartbreak

When you get pregnant, everyone is quick to tell you about all the wonderful things that are coming your way, making sure to point out that all the pain that they’ll now explain in excruciating detail will be worth it when you see the first smile, the first tooth, the first step, the first day of school, the first friend, the first girl/boy friend, etc. They intersperse tales of sleepless nights, baby-chewed breasts, walks off table tops, homework you don’t understand, the first fight, and the breakups with all the AWESOMENESS that it is to be a parent. We discover quickly that we feel every little bump and bruise that our babies gather along the way – none of which hurt as much as the bumps and bruises given to their hearts.

We try to protect them, try to prepare them, and if your me? You make jokes about the rebound girls just waiting in the wings just in case. And then later that SAME DAY, you kick yourself repeatedly, because those horrible four words were just sent via text: We need to talk.

Whoops. Yeah, that’s me there… feeling like an ass.

After their first date on their own, it seems she’s decided she’s just not ready, that it’s going too fast. Of course, any slower and the boy would be moving backwards – he’s been so very careful to take things slow, to let her set the pace, to ease into this friend to dating experience gently. He’s such a gentleman, and a gentle soul, and he really gave her every bit of space and understanding. Unfortunately, she just wasn’t ready. She’s younger then him, and while he respects her decision, he told me that he feels like he was kicked in the gut.

Me too, baby boy. Me too.

It’s hard not to make snarky comments, to make him laugh, to point out again that since he STARTED dating MK, he’s had girls suddenly all over him. It’s like they suddenly realized that -along with being a big ole teddy bear and their friend – he’s dateable. They all saw how much respect he has for MK, and how well he treated her.

I have a feeling that we’ll be embarking on a new adventure very soon – and maybe, just maybe, we won’t be kicked in the gut again for a while. At least, we better not, or Mama will do some kicking of her own!