After being an emotional basketcase last week and throwing myself a nice little pity party, I decided that I was, after all, pregnant. I had my husband pick up a test and bring one home, and the result was negative. He asked, "Why did you think you were pregnant?" My answer: "Because I am." Next morning, I took the second test in the box and it was indeed positive.
I actually did not think that it was possible to be pregnant yet because I thought I had missed the magic window in the midst of the move and house guests and generally just not having any sex (TMI? Sorry). But apparently my window appears earlier than most women's--like on day 10 or 11 on a regular 31-day cycle. That's what happened last time.
So, anyway, I'm not shouting anything from the rooftops. I'm really not very excited. I'm not keeping it a guarded secret (obviously) but I'm also just not interested in talking about it (writing about it is a different thing). This is exactly what I wanted, and I am glad, but not excited--pretty stoic, actually. I am not prepared to emotionally commit to this pregnancy yet. I don't think that waiting longer would have helped--I think that I would have felt this way had I gotten pregnant six months from now. The best way I think I can describe it is that this feels like a pregnancy rather than a future baby. Does that make sense?
I have an ultrasound in three weeks--pretty early--to check things out and make sure it all looks good. Maybe that will help, but I am not certain. Because last time I had an ultrasound, saw a heartbeat, everything looked great, doc gave me a thumbs-up, and then it was over. So ultrasound is a little less convincing to me now.
You know what would make me feel better? Vomiting. Seriously. If I could get some crazy bad morning sickness, I would then be convinced that things are moving along nicely. (You have my permission to remind me of that when I am complaining about the crazy bad morning sickness.)
Having said all that, some baby-related thoughts have been creeping in despite the walls I have built. Yesterday I found myself wondering if I would go to hell if I named a girl Annabelle Leigh (not a Poe fanatic, just think it's pretty--but it would definitely make her popular among the dark and brooding teenage boys).
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
Sarah, congratulations. I think Annabelle Leigh is great. I'll be praying for you that everything goes swimmingly and that you can soon be safe to think of the life inside you as a BABY!
Oh, Annabelle Leigh is a beautiful name, at least to me, literary connections notwithstanding.
Your feelings about this pregnancy are perfectly understandable. Hopefully in a month or two you'll feel safer and more positively about it.
Sarah, there must be something in the water (even though I'm several bodies of water away from you) because my sister-in-law/brother-in-law are expecting their first child. They just told us Saturday--they're only 6 weeks along.
Congratulations! Wishing for safety and happiness!
I wasn't sick at all. I threw up once, partly, I'm sure, stress induced since it was Christmas. Pervasive, lingering slight nausea early on. Mostly ravenous hunger. Maybe this one's a boy.
Post a Comment