Holy crap. Guess what? I'm still pregnant. Like as of 5 minutes ago when I heard the baby's heartbeat on my home doppler. Whaaaaa?!?!?
This is nuts.
I'm 11 weeks, 5 days. The time is creeping sloooooowly along.
The shock has not subsided. Acceptance is not here either.
I'm kind of living in a weird state of limbo where my brain can't admit that yes, my body is actually still pregnant and boobs have never looked better.
My tummy is growing, yet I can't quite bring myself to buy many new clothes yet, for fear that If I had to grieve the loss of this pregnancy and get rid of maternity pants, that it would be an added ounce of pain that isn't worth it yet.
The f*cked up infertile that I thought I had banished to the basement of my emotions for the past couple years is apparently still alive and well.
I can't stop thinking that I never even dreamt about a natural pregnancy, since I was 28 years old and I heard our infertility diagnoses because our chances were so bleak. We didn't ever have timed intercourse because I felt like it was pointless (and ha! I thought our treatments would work).
There was never even a thought in my mind in over 10 years that this could happen. I thought of it as a small blessing in a way, that I didn't have to get my hopes up every single month for nothing.
I'm still shaking my head that I'm even writing about such a thing- happening to us.
I really hope this continues. What an unbelievably awesome ending it would be to everything we've been through.