I realize for someone trying to make a baby while raising a child I haven’t written very much about being pregnant. This is what I can tell you so far:
I can’t stay awake past 9:30.
I drank lemonade twice and threw up both times.
I’m suddenly eating all of Arlo’s plain Goldfish crackers.
I’m not bleeding.
While most of my pregnancies have been lost by this age, I still have many hurdles to cross. I see a doctor next week and a strong heartbeat should be flickering on the ultrasound monitor. Am I confident it will? I am hopeful. I think more about a baby than I do a miscarriage. The next few weeks will be filled with the alphabet soup of high risk pregnancy: AFP, NT and CVS, all tests in one form or another to determine if the baby has any chromosomal errors. A tenuous period but until then I take great comfort in the absence of blood. And here’s the thing, at this stage blood would probably not be the first sign of distress anyway, it would be pain. So blood, you can take your sway elsewhere. I’m not waiting for you. I’m not looking for you. I’m going about my business of being born and sending back the lemonade.