I've been a bad blogger again.
I've been quiet. And that's quite rare for me...both in the blogging world and the real.
Today I'm ten weeks pregnant. My babies are now officially considered fetuses. I am over the moon excited, yet for once in this very long journey, I don't know quite what to say.
I've spent the last month contemplating how to put my feelings into words, and the reality is I don't know how. I'll get back to that. In the meantime, here's what's been happening:
So many people have left me really nice comments. My mother and sister, quite the bloggers themselves, tell me it's rude that I don't reply to comments. I never knew that. I probably still won't really reply to comments. Not because I'm rude, but because good lord it took me a month to write this blog, imagine the lags I would have if I actually tried to step it up.
I've been living life as a wedding crasher. Except that I've been an invited guest. But goodness, is love in the air. If I'm out of touch with the blogosphere, all those lovebirds out there are not helping. The nerve. (Congratulations to all you beautiful people).
I've been sleeping. For probably 85% of the last month.
I gained six pounds and not an ounce of guilt.
I grew a little pot belly. And it's damn cute.
And through it all, I've felt moderately speechless. Through three years of infertility, I couldn't keep my mouth shut. I learned to live with a hugely broken heart and an overbearing sadness that was omnipresent. I never allowed myself to consider what life would be like if I became pregnant. And now I've become pregnant.
You'd think that after three years this wouldn't feel like a shock. At least that it wouldn't feel sudden. But it feels both shocking and sudden. It feels incredibly surreal. I'm terrified of waking up and falling back into the grips of infertility.
So I'm living life a little more quietly. Maybe I'm hoping that if I keep things on the real down-low, that infertility won't notice me quietly working my way through my first trimester. I'm taking it all in as I wait for my broken heart to do its healing. I'm awed by life in the absence of sadness. I feel cautious.
Slowly, I'm working on throwing that caution to the wind. But I'm taking baby steps to do it.