Happy birthday to me

I was supposed to be pregnant for my 30th birthday.

We had planned this trip to Las Vegas to visit my brother in law and see a few shows. We checked and double checked the dates and talked about what we'd do if I couldn't go because of any pregnancy complications, but again--I was confident that everything would be great and I'd be waddling myself around Sin City 28 weeks pregnant.

Earlier this trip we went to see The Beatles Love Cirque de Soliel (which, by the way, was FABULOUS!) but all of The Beatles music was getting to be a bit much for me to handle--and of course the nagging fear that if they did Hey Jude that I'd cry (which they did, and I did) but it seems like these feelings and sad thoughts are brought out by a ton of songs--Something in the Way, Yesterday, etc. So yeah. I teared up a bit, but held it together.

Then there was the Divine Miss M, Bette Midler (WHO IS FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC!) Now anyone who knows me knows that I can be brought to tears by seeing someone perform that I adore, even if they're not particularly famous, so I knew tears would fall... but here I was again tearing up all of the way through The Glory of Love, The Rose, and Wind Beneath my Wings.

So here I am in Vegas, seeing great shows, drinking lots of beer and having a great visit, but inside I'm just so fucking sad that I'm here, having fun and drinking beer.

I knew it was the reason that I wasn't getting excited about leaving for Vegas, but it all came to a head last night. We had been out to the Hoover dam during the day, visited a brewery, and then decided to see the pirate show at Treasure Island and play around on the strip a bit.

At first I just felt a little bad about myself--how I look right now--and we were all just wearing shorts and t-shirts and we kept walking past people dressed up, waiting to get into clubs. You want to roll your eyes at them but inside you know you're a wee bit jealous, even if you'd never be caught dead dressing like that.

Then a few pregnant bellies waddled past me, the clock clicked midnight and here I was--30. Looking like shit, not pregnant, drinking beer in Las Vegas. Not how things were supposed to go.

Yeah. I lost it. I teared up walking through the casinos, so we headed for the car where I proceeded to bawl the entire drive home. This morning I still feel on the verge of tears and will probably have another good cry in the shower.

Further proof that when everyone thinks you should be all better, you aren't. It's been 7 weeks but passing a milestone like this has brought me to my knees and it feels like it was yesterday.

The good news is that today will be over soon and we head home tonight.