So we have big plans for tomorrow night. Don and I are going to the Black Tie Tailgate, which is a huge fancy party thrown at the Philadelphia Auto Show. It's a huge fundraiser for CHOP, specifically benefiting the nursing department, so when we heard about it we immediately started considering it.
We've never done anything like this before. Don hasn't worn his suit since Scott and Amber's wedding in 2006... our wedding has been the only time I've seen him dressed up since we've been together. Even when we go to church or other more dressy occasions, his go-to is a polo and khakis. And while I do occasionally get dressed up, it typically involves something that can be worn over leggings. So we got Don's suit dry cleaned, and I found this super sequined wine-red gown on Rent the Runway. I've spent the week planning hair, nails, and even makeup.
The party features a red carpet, an open bar, passed hors d'oeuvres, and a dance band... all happening among a giant showroom of fancy new cars. It's totally out of our comfort zone, and I suspect we're going to feel like big ol' imposters all night.
But still, we're super excited about it; all week we just keep telling each other how much we can't wait for Friday.
On the other hand, it's bittersweet.
I mean, everything we do has this little cloud over it because things were supposed to be different. We should have a baby at home causing us to hole up and hibernate for the winter. If things had gone according to plan, we wouldn't be able to do any of these things.
We shouldn't have been able to go to New York the other week and see three shows in 24 hours.
We shouldn't have been able to go to this party.
We shouldn't have been able to plan to go to New York in April to see Be More Chill.
I shouldn't be able to go to the AP Reading in June.
All of these things that I truly want to do. Things that I'm looking forward to and excited about. And every one of them a giant reminder about how my life was supposed to be so different now.
So how does one reckon with that? If I had a live baby at home, would I be sad about all the things I couldn't do? Would I resent her for changing my life and taking away all these things that I could be doing instead?
And on the other hand, how can I be excited and looking forward to these things? Wouldn't I rather give up any of them if it meant things would be different and she were here? The excitement for every one of them is tinged with a sense of guilt.
All of these things that we wouldn't be able to do if she were here. And all of these upcoming plans that were supposed to involve her, like our summer trip to West Virginia. Everything we do is tinged with thoughts of the alternate universe in which we had a normal pregnancy, happy birth, and living child.
