I did go and see my family finally. That was great (the visit, not the travel, which was my very worst travel experience ever.) It was wonderful to be there, but it was hard to be there too. When I'm home, in my house, with P and my animals, I'm able to put the homesickness away for the most part, but when it's all right there... longing. I drove to the city P and I met in and past our first apartment. I went to the used bookstore that I've loved for years. I drove along the walking route P and I used to take every night and smelled the ocean (I'd walk it, but too much exercise for the still-restricted me.) I sat at my grandparents' dinner table like we used to do each Sunday and as happy as I was to be home, it also made me sad.
My mom took a day off of work and we were able to go look at baby stuff together. We had done some simultaneous internet surfing, but that's not the same as being there. It was fun to see her look at stuff. We didn't buy anything though. My grandma is desperate to know the gender so she can begin knitting a blanket and a hat.
I feel like a jumbled-up mess, but also really happy.