I naively hoped today would pass unnoticed. That it could be just another day, that the kids would wake me up before I was ready, that we would argue about doing morning chores before free time. That we would eat lunch around 12:30 and start school around 1. That it would either be a great day and they would work diligently and knock it all out, or that it would be a day where no one feels like cooperating, and I wonder what's so great about homeschooling after all. A day where I get some things done around the house because I can't in good conscience put it off any longer. A day where I eagerly anticipate Gary coming home, so the good part of the day can finally start. We'd have supper, some reading or a movie or maybe play Go Fish with the kids, and then get under a mound of covers and go to sleep before rinsing and repeating tomorrow.
But today is the first of what will be many anniversaries. May 4th of last year, I confirmed what I already suspected we were expecting our fourth child. The two fours, and my joking with Gary that there wouldn't be any fun Cinco de Mayo celebration for us tomorrow, made it memorable. Today, I woke up too early, and couldn't go back to sleep. It's gloomy and rainy looking down here. And Gary will be in West Palm until late this evening. There will be the first anniversary of her first ultrasound, of hearing her heart beat, of Gary feeling her move, of her birth/death. And maybe the saddest part is that I really thought we'd be pregnant again by now.