I have tried and true methods of dealing with feeling rejected, and I employed one of them last night. Andrew fed me a delicious fish dinner and then headed out the door to band practice. As soon as he was safely out of sight I snuck out to the store for treats to go with the luxurious evening of television and feeling sorry for myself that I had planned. (Not that he would have minded, but key to feeling truly sorry for oneself is the illusion that one is all alone and the world is against you. Sneaking helps with that.) Poor me, not getting picked for a baby our first week on the list!! Life just seemed much less exciting all of a sudden.
Andrew came home from practice to find me pathetically polishing off a frozen yogurt as the credits rolled for this week's Chuck.
He put his arms around me. "Don't worry baby, we're special. We'll get picked."
It shows how well my husband knows me that he was able to see right through my mouthful of frozen treats to the real problem. I let myself indulge in my signature quivering lower lip, the one that my Dad used to grab at playfully when I was a little girl and got too pouty. "We are special. We need a special baby."
My sweet husband smiled at me and kissed my lip back into place. I smiled back and the world seemed once again quite wonderful and livable. I could even imagine that it could be interesting and exciting again.
Andrew paused on his way out of the room. "Not too special."
And we both burst out laughing.