I rediscover my pregnancy each morning. I wake up, and in my stillness, I am unaware. Even with the fluttery good mornings of elbows and feet, I am not aware of the immensity of it. Or, in fact, the immensity of me.
I am awed, and hopeful, and now, expectant. I moved into a realm where I expect things to be ok. And I need to believe that with all of my heart.
After so much time in hibernation, I finally decided to spend some time catching up with blogs and almost immediately found such sad things I could not continue. SciFibaby, Brooke who was just about where I am, lost her baby on May 17th.
I am horrified always at the thought of loss, anytime, to anyone-- but to have it happen to someone cycling exactly the schedule as I was, running a parallel course of wonder and awe? I am simply floored.
And then there is hope to be celebrated and supported, sweet Joannah is doing a hope-filled FET this month with the two embryos she created with her now deceased and always beloved husband.
I hate the fragility of all of this.
Yes, in the fragility there is beauty, but there is also such fear.
I don't like that part.
I don't like feeling so vulnerable and powerless and afraid that Bad Things Will Happen.
I have been sitting here since, hand on my belly, feeling movement inside and out, knowing (hoping) all is well in this moment.
Then a well-intentioned search on previa scared the shit out of me.
yeah. Wish I hadn't done that.
I need to get my feet back under me. So, katekate, step Away from the computer. Stop trying. Just be.
And breathe some more.
Happy 20 weeks little one. Here's to 20 more UNEVENTFUL NONSCARY ORDINARY weeks with lots of reassuring knocks and wiggles.