Trace and I went about our normal business until Wednesday night. We planned to nap before heading to the hospital around 8:15, but the excitement was too much for us. We laid in bed, talking, and really just spending quality time together, just the two of us. We unwound from a busy week and busy thoughts, and I just enjoyed laying there with Trace, enjoying our last moments together as a family of two.
We talked about the unknowns, the what ifs, our hopes and dreams for our little boy, laying beside each other, just us for the last time.
I had spent the day cleaning and got everything done except vaccuuming, which Trace was nice enough to take care of for me.
He peeled me an orange and fed it to me as I curled my hair. There’s something about curling my hair that even if I’m not wearing any make up, it still makes me feel put together. It was the one thing I did for myself that day to help myself be more comfortable in the hours to come. Afterwards, Trace packed our bags and pillows in the car, we closed and locked the door, and started on our way, not really knowing what to expect except that we would be meeting Ian at the end of it all.
It was weird, taking one last look at our neighborhood and knowing that the next time we’d return that we’d have a little bundle of baby cuteness with us. I held Trace’s hand on the way. And I think we were listening to K-Love on the way. I don’t remember much else about the drive, except that I got a little more nervous the closer we got.
When we arrived at the parking garage, I remember Trace went around and couldn’t find parking because one side was crowded, so we turned around and headed back to a spot close to where we parked when we attended the class. Trace pulled everything out of the car, and I carried the pillows since they were the lightest thing and together we walked towards the hospital.
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