The memories that will never be

How do you miss something that never was?

How do you create memories that never were? Since a young age, I have hoped and dreamed and planned and believed that certain things in my life would happen. As young girls, we think about our wedding. We pretend to be brides, we look through magazines, we think we know who will be our bridesmaids. We create this beautiful fiction in our heads of something that will once become.

What happens when those stories, those hopes and those dreams, will never be?

There are these moments I so desperately want to happen, but I know never will. Little things like a baby shower or gender reveal party that will never be. All the way to when my (now) husband and I were serious, maybe engaged, and were in the car for a decent period of time, we often talked about baby names. Names we liked, names we didn’t like, girls names, boys names, everything. It was our little way of looking into the future. This was always fun. I remember just being in absolute awe of my husband and in complete, head-over-heels love with him when he spoke about being a father. We had our own little list of baby names that will forever be lost.

I used to watch these videos of a woman giving her partner the news of her being pregnant.

I used to think about what cute, memorable way I would surprise my husband with that news, surprise our families with that news… I loved those videos. I loved watching them. I loved how happy everyone was, and how excited they got. I can’t watch them anymore. It sends me down a depressive spiral of pain and anguish. It kills me, knowing that THAT moment, will never be for me.

Pregnancy announcements are filled with such joy, such anticipation. Everyone chiming in with their congratulations and excited energy to be a part of such a wonderful memory. Pregnancy photoshoots: being dolled up, and photographed and admired as this beautiful pregnant woman, soon-to-be mother hides nothing and feels gorgeous. All of these moments… all of this that will never be.

Birthday parties that will never happen.

Cakes that will never be made. The sound of pitter-patter little feet running down the stairs on Christmas morning to see Santa’s boot print in the snow or the half eaten carrot we left out for Vixen (because my kids’ favourite reindeer would be Vixen and not Rudolf (obviously))… Doling out my sage advice to empty ears, but knowing something, somehow, would get through to them. Going through the monumental development stages and watching a little (or big) unique personality shine through. Big moments; graduation, their first kiss, their wedding, their career path, to moments that aren’t big… the ones where you stand in the doorway watching your baby sleep through the night, the smile or wave they give you when they’re not ‘too cool’ for their parents, the sitting-on-the-couch for family movie night, or sneaking away for an ice-cream with just the two of you… ALL of this…. all of this is what pains me every time. Every time I think… my kid would like action films, or… I’d never force my kid to eat peas because they’re disgusting…. every time Christmas comes and goes and I think… man, it would be so much more fun with little ones running around.

It kills me, a little bit, every time I think of a memory that will never be…