Hello from Tiny Number Two

Quickly after running the half marathon, spirits still high as a kite, we decided it was time to try for a new addition to the family. Two tries and after a delicious thanksgiving feast, this one stuck! We reckon it was the pecan pie.

This pregnancy has been much different from Baxter’s to the point where I failed to believe I was pregnant at all. Did I misread the obvious “pregnant 3-4 weeks” sign that flashed up on the clear blue? Was it all in my head?

As weeks went by there was no nausea. No beige diet. Just several instances of me waking up on the couch, toys piled up on my head, and Baxter looming over me whispering “mommy seep”. Boy did the guilt creep up on me on those days. But it was that ever growing drowsiness that I clung to. The only symptom keeping this pregnancy alive.

It’s hard to believe anything is going on in there once you’ve been through miscarriage. Even though the signs point to yes, it’s still hard to accept. The innocence is gone. Not having any symptoms, well, that just makes it a little bit harder. 

But here I am, twenty-five weeks down. Somewhere between twelve and seventeen weeks to go. Another little boy miraculously growing inside this belly of mine. His summersaults and hiccups now a permanent reminder that he’s here. And we’ll be ready.

Here’s to our journey as a family of four.