Mr. Hall and I are at dinner. Babysitter booked, night to ourselves. Oh Glory Be.
I was kind of blubbering, softly though. We were looking through the menus and I was trying to not to talk about ovulation apps I downloaded on my phone. He doesn't like me getting obsessed. But I have to keep track of things now, closely. And part of me is still scared.
"What? What's wrong?", he says.
"Well, I just find it too much sometimes. And I want to sign up for Mamaste, the prenatal yoga, with the special yoga teacher. But, do I tell her what happened? I don't want to weigh her down with knowing that me, one of her students, has had two miscarriages. I don't want her to be sad and watching me during class. I've been thinking about it a lot and I don't know what to do. I know it's silly, I'm not even pregnant yet. But I can't not tell her. But I mean, I mean, it could happen again.", I say.
(The waiter takes our orders, I order a strawberry daiquiri for my dinner drink.)
"Nothing's going to happen babe. It'll be alright.", he says, staring. I can tell I've prickled him.
"Look, it's foolish to say that. I mean, chances are, everything will be alright this time. But there is a chance it won't. And I'm still sad about the last babies. I mean, it's ok sad, but I'm still sad. I'm happy though, more happy then sad. Still working my way through all of this." And I'm looking at him and he has softened.
He's smiling now and says, "There is one way to know things will be alright."
"How's that?", I ask.
"We can have faith." He said this, looking directly at me.
Then I feel so happy because he makes me so happy when he says stuff like this. And when he says stuff like this I believe him. Then I realize I'm kind of sobbing so I saunter to the loo and clean up a bit. I come back to the table to find a king size, pale green margarita where my strawberry daiquiri should be.
"Don't sip this. Drink it.", he commands, "I told them to make it strong. And don't be slow because there's another one after this for you. "
The taste of the thing was crazy. It was really, really jarring. Strawberry drinks are so much different then the pale green monster before me. I sipped and shook my head involuntarily from side to side. All the while making a pucker yuck face. However, I knew I was in no position to argue.
So I breathed out, like fogging up a mirror, held my breath and sucked the juice in. Taking big gulps and hoofing it down. And I must say, the pale green monster gets the job done nicely. About 3/4 of the way through I was giggling. I giggle ferociously when I'm drunk. Everything is just so funny. The table is funny, the drink cups are funny, the lighting is funny, the food is funny, I'm funny, Mr. Hall is funny. I laugh and laugh.
I finished off the one. My belly was bursting with margarita goodness. We munched on chips while that absorbed a little. Then the next one came. And I was able to finish a good half of it.
Then I noticed the car was funny. Well, not the car, but the fact that we parked right outside the door of the restaurant but now it seemed to far away. That was so funny. Then I noticed Mr. Hall was kind of holding me up. That was hilarious. I must have laughed the entire ride home over this.
Maybe this is why Mr. Hall limits my adult beverage intake while in public. I am a mess and can't walk very well. Huh, well, anywho . . .
Another thing I noticed was my lack of pain. I had been hitting the yoga mat hard lately, beating it like it owed me money. My legs, belly and calves were throbby sore all week. But with that much booze on board, I knew the meaning of feel no pain. It was wonderful.
I was put to bed and that was funny. Mr. Hall napped beside me for a while. It took a good hour for the room to take a square shape again. It was a surreal night all clouded in pale green goodness.
And nights like these, this is why I love Mr. Hall. ;)