I'm not great with keeping things close to the vest. I try, but my brain has always been two steps ahead of my mouth, so I tend to blurt things out. Before thinking. Lots.
So it's been really hard to stop myself from writing about what's been going on here lately. I've been holding back because I'm being cautious without trying to be, I'm a little superstitious without meaning to be, and I'm terribly, terribly excited and afraid.
It's early. Less than a month. My projected due date is the same as it was for E (Nov 10th), which is a good sign to me. But I don't know what's going to happen, and with the trouble I had with the first two rounds of pregnancy I am alternately happy and scared to death. My doctor is great and I trust him. But that first ultrasound? It's like having your fortune told in an old movie. If it's a love story you'll get a god fortune. If it's a werewolf movie you won't. And you don't know until you talk to that gypsy just what kind of movie you're in.
Ultimately there is nothing I can do about this. I'm eating well, feeling pretty good and trying to get plenty of sleep. I keep checking things, however; things that mean everything or nothing. Am I nauseous enough? Am I tired enough? Do my boobs hurt enough? Is that a growing pain or a cramp? Will this be wonderful, or am I going to get hurt again? I can't know until it happens, and the amount of fear I have is directly proportionate to the amount of happy I am about having another little one to love. So much hope! I know that everything will be OK no matter what, but getting my hormone addled mind and heart to agree with that statement takes so much deep breathing sometimes I get all woozy.
Thanks for listening, guys. I appreciate it. I'll let you know how things stand as soon as I can.
In other news we're supposed to get about a foot of snow here between today and tomorrow. Greenemama, I am seriously envying your sunny park days right now!