Too Much Perfection?

DH and I went to church this morning. Because DH was responding to emails this morning in hopes of making some job contacts, we were just a couple of minutes late. As we slinked into our seats and sat down, the opening comments were already being mad and once I realized what the topic was, I could just feel all the blood draining from my face.

Apparently, my church was celebrating Sanctity of Life Day. This is the day chosen to praise life and also, it seemed, to point out how wrong abortion is, etc etc. As tears began to stream down my cheeks and my shoulders shook in silent sobs, it occurred to me that I must look like one of three things:
1. I really agreed what was being said, to the point of being emotionally overcome by it.
2. I was suffering the effects of abortion backlash in some way.
3. I'd simply lost my ever-loving mind.

While option number three is not far off the mark, it was actually none of the above. Personally, I am pro-choice. Abortion would not be my choice, but I am absolutely pro-choice. But I digress.

The reason I was having an absolute and total meltdown was because the talk about babies (and the newborn nestled in his mother's arms in the pew behind me) suddenly and resoundingly drove home the fact that I would not be having another child any time soon.

So for an hour and a half, I mourned a child I'd never even conceived. I mourned the child we had planned for the past year. I mourned the child I have spent the past three months preparing my body to carry.

It seems silly to mourn the loss of something I never had. But even now, I do.