I refuse to regret this.

I will not be the Jessi Spano of pregnancy. You know, all dancing around a room by myself, hopped up on No-Doz singing, "I'm so excited, I'm so excited, I'm so... I'm so... SCARED, ZACK!"

No, that will not be me.

Something's come over me since I saw that 2nd line on the test and maybe it's just a temporary coping mechanism, but I feel this need to proceed like everything is going to be okay. I want to dive right into my October Mommies group, give up moderator rights to my fav. TTC message board, and talk about the future with certainty. Sure, I don't want to shout it from the rooftops just yet (I mean, hello... I'm still coping with my own shit, I'm not ready to pile anyone else's emotions on top of mine or listen to their fears) but I just want to savor every beautiful moment of this and just believe.

I figure that if I stress and everything goes fine, I'd have worried for nothing and cheated my baby out of every ounce of joy they're due. And if something goes terribly wrong, I will be absolutely devastated again. But why suffer before something actually goes wrong? What good would that do?

Exactly.

I refuse to regret one moment of this or apologize for having hope. Today is a good day and I hope there are many more miracles to follow.

xoxo

Pocket full of hope

Yesterday I started to write a blog post about how I'd accepted that our timing was so bad and I was letting go of everything I was crossing my fingers for this cycle - a speedy trip back into the wonderful world of pregnancy and a picture-perfect October due date (potentially my last shot at a 2010 due date, depending on how my next cycle went). I was grateful to be back in the game, to know that my husband wants this as much as I do, and for the sense of peace that I've had for the past month.

And then today happened.

As I woke up this morning, my hand sort of rubbed across my tummy and I immediately thought to myself, "Nope, I'm not pregnant. It's silly to test this early, especially if our timing was that bad." But then as I started to roll out of bed, I knew that while I felt fine this morning, by noon I would be spazzing out at work, unable to concentrate. It would be better to put my mind at ease than to have a midday freak out.

I snagged a test, went to the bathroom, and threw it on the shelf before hopping in the shower, not even looking to see the control line pop up. After my shower I started my normal morning routine and after a minute or two, finally looked at the test...

And saw the faintest of faint pink lines!

Of course I immediately yanked the test apart, turned on another light, and tilted it a bit. Is it a shadow of a line? No, it's not grey--it's pink. I see the slightest bit of pink!

What to do? What to do?

I ran and turned on the coffee and planned on taking up a cup to DH before I left, like I always do. I was determined to stay calm and let him sleep a little while longer.

But when I walked into our bedroom, my alarm clock went off! I apparently had hit snooze instead of actually turning it off, so I ran over to turn it off. DH gave a bit of an frustrated, sleepy grumble and I couldn't resist crawling into bed, telling him that I was so sorry that I didn't turn it off properly and that I hopefully I could make it up to him--that I'd just seen the faintest of faintest 2nd line on a test. He smiled with his eyes closed, and said he loved me.

We talked about it for a few minutes and soon he was up and about. He's feeling nervous and cautious, but I think he sees the same glimmer of hope that I do.

Tomorrow marks 5 months since I delivered Jude and time has been kind to me. What felt like sharp pieces of glass in my heart for so long have softened a bit. Sure, it's not beach glass just yet but I know it's on the way and this news makes me feel like I've been given the most precious gift that I plan on treasuring and appreciating for each moment that I have this sweet baby with me.

Heh. Me--a mother of 2! Who wouldda thunk it?

Come out, come out wherever you are!

Did you know that it's De-Lurking Week?

Neither did I! Not until I read it on Mrs. Bro's blog.

So here's your chance. Make your presence known in the comments section by asking me a question--anything--that you'd like to know about me or my experiences. I'd be happy to answer to the best of my ability.

You know that I'm an open book, so go for it!

xoxo

A deeper understanding of acceptance

Everyday when I walk into work, I'm greeted with a huge billboard with the date and a list of employee birthdays. It's a nice touch and I usually give it a glance to see if there are any familiar names, but this morning I paused when I read the date: January 7th, 2010.

I know I've already mentioned that my EDD is approaching and I'd already seen that poster twice this week so I shouldn't have been that surprised, but for some reason the creeping date just made me stop for a moment and let it sink in a little further that it's finally here.

I don't have much to say about it. It's weird, but it's just a part of my life that I can't change. It happened. And 1/9/10 will be no worse a day than 8/26/09 and the days that followed. It's so weird that it's been four months since we let the baby go and thankfully time has been kind to me.

I guess I thought I'd feel worse this week, but I've just been forcing myself to focus on what is vs. what could have been--because what's the point? Wishing and wondering won't change reality. I am not a full term pregnant woman-- and I never was.

I look exactly like I did one year ago, but somehow I've changed. I've been to hell and back and survived.That's still very shocking to me. I'd say it's pretty amazing, but I know that so many people have been through much worse and survived.

When it all first happened, I was sort of thankful that if we were going to lose the baby that we were in a situation with a clear diagnosis and that we wouldn't be jerked around with hope. It was what it was. It made it easy to understand what we had to do--but it wasn't true acceptance.

When I was reading about grief, oftentimes they mentioned denial and bargaining as stages, but it was weird--I never went through that. I kept saying that I accepted it, but only now do I understand what acceptance is. And it's not even something that I'm sure that I can put into words. I had to go through months of sorting out what I felt, what I had lost, and how this fits into my life now. And it made me really sad, realizing the magnitude of what happened and how this will stay with me forever. And it was in that darkness and quiet that I just finally said okay--I give up.

I knew from the very beginning that while it had broken our hearts, it wouldn't break us. We could handle it and we did--even though we didn't want to. We've emerged stronger in many respects and very vulnerable in others--and I don't see anything wrong with being more sensitive to loss. It makes you a better friend and person.

I don't know how or why this actually happened and I refuse to speculate because it won't change anything. I wont say that anything good came out of this because the best thing didn't happen. As much as I hate it (and I hate this phrase), it is what it is.