Me: Sniffle, sniffle
Mark: Are you crying?
Mark: We aren’t even out of bed yet. No one has said anything. What could you possibly be crying about?
Me: I was just thinking…
Mark: (in his most “I don’t really care but it’ll be more trouble not to ask” voice) About…
Me: Quinn and her baby.
Mark: Who is Quinn?
Me: Quinn from Glee. (duh)
Mark: Glee? The show?
Me: Yeah. She spent all that time carrying the baby and the baby was hearing her voice and getting used to her voice. (sobbing starts in 3, 2, 1…) And I read the other day that babies love the sound of their mother’s voice. It calms them down. It makes them feel safe. And Quinn’s baby never really got to hear her voice! And so that poor baby probably feels so unloved right now.
Mark: Quinn’s not real. And neither is her baby. Are we really having this conversation?
Me: But her baby would be SO SAD if it was real! (still crying)
Mark: And our baby will hear your voice and feel very safe. Please stop crying.
Me: I guess so. Poor Quinn’s baby…
A few hours later we were at church and it’s not abnormal for me to cry at some point during the service, so when Mark noticed I was wiping tears away from my face I’m sure he thought I had been particularly touched by the song we’d just sung or the pastor’s prayer. When he pulled me in to give me a hug I leaned close and whispered…
Me: Um, I’m not crying about the service.
Mark: (alarmed) What’s wrong?
Me: (sniffle, sniffle) I just really wish Quinn’s baby could hear her voice one more time…
*Just a note that I fully support adoption and think it’s one of the most beautiful acts of love ever. I’m glad Quinn’s fictional baby has a good home with a good mom and doesn’t really need Quinn’s voice to feel safe and loved. I’m just crazy.