Damn, damn, damn. I rode the motorcycle in today even though I felt I should have driven the truck in. And I should know by now to go with my instincts. Especially since I was carrying a light that didn't fit completely inside my backpack.
And I was carrying the tape with the first two ultrasounds recorded on it. The first and only videos of our, as yet, unborn baby.
The light that didn't fit? Gone.
The tape? Gone.
Fucking fuck.
At least I took the still pictures out of the tape case before putting it in my pack this morning but I'm pretty upset by my stupidity. P has been very supportive and understands how upset this has made me. She's not happy about it but is trying to buoy my spirits.
In fact, I'm going to mount up and ride back along that stretch of the highway to see if I can find it.
Wish me luck.
[Update: Though I wonder if there should be a better term for it than "Update" because its not good news. Anyway, I went back down to try and find the tape. I saw the box on the shoulder and pulled off the highway, making sure to not get my clock cleaned by errant drivers. About three feet from where I stopped, I saw video tape, unraveled and all over the shoulder, not a good sign. A short walk back up the road and I got the case but it was empty. No tape but lots of actual video tape blowing all over the shoulder.
The tape is gone, I wanted to cry. But instead, I came back into work and am sad. I hate the sense of loss I feel, hate the idea that we'll never be able to show those ultrasounds to the little boy or girl. Hate that I should have just driven my damned truck in today.]
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