Happy

This weekend Derek asked Ian: 'What are you going to be when you grow up Ian? Are you going to be a builder?' (we were playing with building blocks).

Ian said (without hesitation): 'I'm going to be happy'.

My son amazes me everyday.

There you are!

Yesterday we had our long awaited 12 week ultrasound. We got to see with our very own eyes that little 5 cm being that has been making me so tired and making my belly grow. Both Derek and I think it's another boy. We just have that 'boy feeling' (and would be happy if we were either right or wrong). A girl would be fun because it would be different from what we know and a boy would be fun too since it would mean a little brother for Ian. The baby was kicking and squirming and punching and it was incredible to see. It was the exact proof that I needed to relax a little bit. So now it's time to have some faith and trust that everything will work out fine. I'm starting to believe that that's really true and that feels really good!

Baby, baby.

Pregnancy after the crushing disapointment of a loss is difficult. It was hard to believe that I was really pregnant. Sometimes it is still hard to believe. That things will really work out this time. Derek felt frustrated when I refused to get excited about the pregnancy. He didn't understand why I was being 'so negative'. Pregnancy and pregnancy loss affects people differently. I know he was disappointed that we lost the baby but I also know that he didn't feel the degree of grief that I did. To be fair he wasn't there when it happened. I was four hours away visiting my parents. He didn't experience the wait in the emergency room. The fear of going to the bathroom, scared to see what might be going on. The examination by the doctor. The news from the ultrasound technician that there was nothing there. Only a sac. No baby. The news from the doctor later on that they had to be sure to rule out a molar pregnancy. The trying to keep it all together and not cry in front of the doctor (who was young and cute... which somehow made it worst). And then the next day, having to stop at a public washroom (a porta-potty at a visitor centre), on my drive back home, with Ian in the back of the car, to put a diaper between my legs to catch the gushing blood. The bleeding which went on for three weeks. Wondering when will it stop? Please god, I really don't want a d&c.

Then finally my period. Then, a little later, a positive pregnancy test. And four weeks later, an ultrasound which confirmed a beating heartbeat.

Tomorrow I will be 12 weeks. I can hardly believe it. The news is out. My friends and family all know and so do my colleagues at work. So it seems this is really happening. My belly has grown. All signs point to positive. On Tuesday I have an ultrasound. I can't wait to see my baby. To confirm once again that it's really there. Alive and well. Only two more sleeps. Then maybe. Maybe after that, I can let go of the fear and finally relax into this pregnancy.

Let the baby growing in my heart catch up to the one that's been growing in my belly.