You can follow my journey through miscarriage from the start here.
So this morning I posted an insta story where I made a joke about not looking forward to months of throwing up. Then it hit me … I have hope! Hope snuck back in and smuggled some joy and excitement with it.
When I first suspected I was pregnant, I ignored it. I didn’t want to think about it. But it seems that despite my best efforts, my subconscious has been getting excited and hopeful for this little baby. Now I should say here, I still haven’t taken a test. I don’t want to because I haven’t missed my period yet and I know I am too fragile at the moment to see a negative. It will still be too early to be positive.
Many of you may think I am totally crazy to think I am pregnant already. But falling asleep at 6pm most evenings and spending much of my day being sick tells me otherwise. And maybe that is why I am hopeful. Each time I am sick, I am reassured that the hormones are strong. Each time I feel the pregnancy fog descend, I actually feel pregnant. I had these symptoms with George, but not as strong. And not so early. It feels more like Boo’s pregnancy. And so hope has been creeping in and filling my heart with love for our newest member of the family.
I’m not saying there won’t be other sad moments of reflections or other times of fear, guilt and anxiety, but for now I am choosing to embrace hope and joy. I am choosing to believe it will all be ok.