I imagine a ballroom dance class
in which reality has some upper hand/prior knowledge/innate grace
and I am all left feet and tight hips and self conscious insecurity. I am blushing and awkward and gawky.
Now out of the first trimester, my nausea has vanished (praise the gods/goddess/all-that-is), the fatigue is still profound but easier to understand. I've come to know it now, fight it less, realize when I am done in and try to honor that...
but there is this BABY inside me. I can hear it-- the magical doppler and I have a 10 second date every night, I find the heartbeat, listen for just a few seconds, and turn it off, reassured, and yet...
I am having trouble truly grokking the reality here people.
I was very used to the Quest and all that came with it. I am not used to success. And it is all new, all wondrous, but also a little dislocated. I absolutely revel, but I feel like I am reveling in a dream. My big big belly (sprogblogger apparently got ALL the boob magic, mine are just like mine always were,which is to say, largely (or, more accurately, smally) unremarkable)-- the big belly says something is happening. No chance for regular pants. Belly be band does not cover the whole undone zipper unless I wear it down over my entire nearly non-existent ass, so I am in maternity pants.
I "know" I am pregnant. Had a normal OB appointment last monday right before my trip. Normal normal normal. And
holy crap. normal?
But I feel-- well-- astonished and not quite believing yet.
Today I am at 15 weeks.
that means 13 weeks ago this little one began in a dish in Waltham MA.
this coming wednesday marks the day we began this trip in tandem.
And yet, I cannot quite believe it.
Most folks say when I can feel it move it will become more real to me. Some folks say it is never truly real real because it is so BIG and unfathomable.
I will be (always) curious to see how this unfolds for me.
Today my darlin' gave me a mother's day card.
Last year, this time, I was recovering from my friday-before-mother's day D&E and was reeling with the grief of miscarriage.
I cannot believe my luck.
Apparently this is more than a turn of phrase. I know I am still waiting, hoping, making deals with whatever gods may be listening... as if this might not be real, as if it might not work out. And yet I know with all of my heart, that I would be destroyed by that. I guess I truly cannot quite yet believe my luck.
The trip was exhausting but I got to see some friends I do not ever see. Usually business is all business, but this time, I made time for dinner with friends-- one I had not seen in more than 4 years, the other almost as long.
Since I was in the neighborhood, I blew kisses to Elizabeth and K and Traci. I loved being in the same time zone as all of you.
But now, I am tired- need to nap or rest or read. I need to clean and organize too but will do that in small bits. Action and rest interleaved. At least I can do some where a few weeks ago I could do none. Progress.
My next pregnancy related appointment is the 17th for the second bloodwork of the sequential screening-- that's next monday I guess? Then 5 weeks until our anatomy ultrasound, where we will hopefully NOT find out the gender but will learn that everything looks perfect.
Again, I feel like I am talking about someone else. The ideal kate. The one who groks this. The one who can dance.