Yesterday we went to mass with my sister and 1 year old niece. Since my adorable Goddaughter is completely into EVERYTHING now and likes to loudly sing along with the hymns, we thought it best to sit in the crying room. Mr.Slick and I were sitting there listening to mass and entertaining my niece since my pregnant sister can't really pick her up due to complications (yes my sister is pregnant with another while her 1st born is just a year - she had a very difficult pregnancy and will again but I digress...).
So anyway, we were sitting there playing with my niece and there are babies laughing, climbing and crying all around us and my my heart was aching through their laughs and cries. Mr. Slick and I could feel the tension between us and we knew we were thinking the same thing. During mass, while the priest was commenting on all the wonderful fathers and fathers to be in the parish, I couldn't help but think about how if we weren't plagued with infertility we could have a 9 month old sitting there with us and he could be the proud papa during his first Father's Day mass. We could be the embarrassed parents prying our child's sticky fingers from the pew in front of us as we carry the squealing babe to the cry room or if even necessary, outside. How I wish we could suffer such wonderful embarrassment.
Yesterday was not his Father's Day but perhaps next year he will be able to sit proudly and stand when all the other fathers are recognized on their special day too.