10 Days and Counting to Cozumel

When I was in high school, I used to count down to youth group trips, or even just youth group events, that I was excited about. I would write the number on my hand and I would know how many days were left starting at something ridiculous like 150.

However, Melody and I are leaving for Cozumel, Mexico in only ten days, and I didn't even realize it until yesterday, after my Father said, in surprise, "Oh, you're leaving at the end of next week, too." It took me a moment. I got home and I counted the days frantically, surprised.

I guess I've not been counting because we leave the first and return the eighth. Mike is deployed the 7th, and will leave Indiana the 10th. So, in my head, I think I equated counting down to my vacation as the equivalent as counting down to Mike's leaving - something I'm not sure I'm ready to face. Not that I haven't had enough time.

Initially, my man was leaving the first and we were leaving the first or second, which would have worked fine. It would give me time to focus on something that's not work. But the army changed the dates, and now... I shouldn't plan things.

It's a good thing November is National Novel Writing Month, because I can throw myself into that. And work.

Ten days until mine and Melody's vacation to Cozumel. Yay Cruise! 18 Days until Mike leaves for Iraq. Can't believe I'm counting down to that.

"Maybe Baby Daddy"

Yesterday was a long day, to say the least. Knowing a little about babies and waiting for them to come, I packed some work, my laptop, food, two coffee drinks (I thought about getting Adam one, too, but decided that he didn't need one), a couple books and some cash. The boys were frustrated after twenty minutes. No joke. They seemed to think that the baby would just magically pop out. I tried to explain on the way there, on the way in, and while in the waiting room that it takes time. Adam simply said, "She better pop that bastard out."

Five hours later, the doctor broke Jan's water. The boys went out to smoke just before it was time to push, and Mike volunteered the two of us to not stay in the room. While they smoked, I explained to Adam that he had to be in that room because if it is his baby, he'll regret not being there, if it is his baby, he'll have an amazing first memory of it, it'll look good to Jan's mom (who, at only six years older than him, was not impressed by his attributes) and he needs to be there to watch at least one of his kids be born. And he went in.

I swear he came out, and he was excited. He was telling us about accidentally looking and about how big the baby is and it's feet and it's hands and his dark hair and how cute he is. One hour and he was hooked. The baby is adorable (and I swear it has his nose), but he's waiting until the paternity test comes back before he says anything official. At least, that's what he says.

I tried to convince Mike that Adam wanted the baby to be his when he left. He wasn't convinced, but I think he is now. Mike and I went out with Celi and Eddie and Adam showed up later with baby pictures galore, telling everyone about his kid.

He confided in Mike and I that he'll be disappointed if this kid isn't his - that he wants it to be his. Mike thinks he's on Cloud 9 (which he is a little bit), but it doesn't actually surprise me - from what I understand, men becomes fathers when they see the baby.

He keeps talking about the baby's faces and how cute he is. He's even talking about how much it sucks to have to go to Iraq. You don't know how surprising that is unless you know him. In the first six months Mike and I dated, all I've heard Adam say was how excited he was to go back. Even recently, he was talking about how then he wouldn't have to deal with the situation.

It's crazy to me what a complete turnaround he's had.

Mike's worried. He's worried about what's going to happen if the baby's NOT Adam's... and there's that possibility. He has a point.

October 20th

"October 20th."
"What?"
"October 20th. That's the day we're deployed... I thought you should know."

I didn't cry. Not until I got home. He told me where they'll be. He thinks. I didn't ask how long. He didn't say.

I knew when we started dating that there was a possibility of him going back. I knew he was a soldier. I knew that. I still know that... And I'm proud of him.

But gosh... I'm scared.