It surprises me daily how it’s been, trying to get pregnant again. The first time was nerve-wracking. The second time has only been for like, 12 hours. And since then, it’s been … nice? Is that possible?
This time around, everything just feels more zen. I am happy and excited for the possibility. We’re enjoying the trying, and the time in between. We want to get that magic positive test at the end of the rainbow of course, but either way, this is good right now, in this moment.
This feeling, this calm, happy feeling, sneaks up on me, and I wonder, how is it possible to be so comfortable with this? Our baby died. And I feel like the answer is exactly that – our baby died, last time. What the hell else could possibly happen that will be worse? Last time, I went into pregnancy terrified of everything and with so many unknowns. This time, we are terrified about one, specific thing. The unknowns from last time are now more or less known. And our baby could die, again, but that already happened, and we survived. So what else is there, really, to worry about?
Oh, there will be a time to worry, I’m sure. A time to live in stark terror of moving too much, of ultrasounds, of surgical procedures. But those times aren’t now. This time is happy, and exciting, and fun, and I guess I’m finally living in the moment.