We are quickly passing the risky time of pregnancy. I feel very comfortable in where we are, and for the first time in a long time, I’ve actually not taken a pregnancy test in a few weeks… not looked at the TP to make sure I’m not bleeding. I’m just living.
Jon passed the bar (which as you remember, he had to take in the middle of my miscarriage last cycle.) This is a huge relief for us, as it means that I can stop working when we planned, and we can start looking seriously at houses.
So, I’m busy ogling various beautiful houses right across the river in Vancouver Washington.
I have to admit, for the past couple of weeks, I’ve been struggling with depression. I finally nailed down why I feel that way this weekend. For the past 2+ years, I’ve been comfortable with the label of “infertile.” My life was predictable, period, timed encounters, a brutal wait, spend money on pregnancy tests, be disappointed. Rinse and repeat. Right now, I’m not really sure what to do. It’s not real yet, the only thing making it real is my lack of needing to do any of the infertility rituals that I’d done on a 39 day cycle for the past 2 years.
Now that I’ve put my finger on this, I’m being more aware, and trying to focus on the future. This is not to say that I’m not over the moon that we are expecting. I am. It just feels unreal, and this is uncharted territory for me.
I have a dr appt on Wednesday; I’m hoping that they will do an ultrasound so I can see the little raspberry again.