Nervous making

So I mentioned to my husband yesterday that I just felt different.  Not as pregnant.  My breasts aren't as sore.  I am not as woozy.  I am not falling asleep on the couch at weird hours.  Perhaps I would not be as nervous or have even mentioned it, but something just felt different...and something just felt different in January as well, but then I didn't even think that it would be possible for something to be wrong.  Now it is all I can think about.  I wouldn't say all my symptoms are gone, but just a little less.  And then today, there was ever the slightest lightest spotting in my underwear.

There is really nothing to be done.  Jay is choosing to be positive.  I would like to be as well.  I should at least try, but I know regardless of how much I wish or want I cannot control what happens.  We'll see.

Day 2

Well we found out yesterday.  And though this one I will keep a secret, here I am creating a blog.  But hoping no one reads for quite some time.

But I feel it is important to try to capture everything.  

So this is me right now: Sitting on my couch at 7:13 in the morning, while my son watches Lazy Town on Noggin eating breakfast (star shaped jelly sandwiches and yogurt).  There is nothing more adorable than watching him hold a sandwich in his little hands.

He is Benjamin. He will be three in July.  I love him more than I thought possible.  I will not even try to explain the feelings for it, for I will just sound cheesy and like everyone else.  That is the thing, it is impossible to explain, the love for your child, but it is all you ever feel.

And now, there might be another.  I say might because only a few months ago, I had a missed miscarriage.  I am hopeful now, but not counting my eggs yet...(bad choice of words I know).  Also, my best friend is currently going through what I just went through.  The pain of losing a pregnancy is as indescribable as the love for your child.  I hate hearing her voice sound so off, of hearing of that no man's land worry.  I hate knowing the pain she is in.  And I hate the apprehension that my miscarriage has created in me.  I am pregnant, but until I see the heartbeat, until I hold my baby actually, I will be cautious.  Perhaps I am extra cautious because Benjamin's birth took me by such surprise with its level of trauma.  Though he is a thriving delicious boy, the first night of his life I did not know if he would make it through.  So now, I wait.  And even still I imagine this new baby and Benjamin playing and loving each other and talking about us their parents with a knowing eye roll.  I can't help but think about double strollers and where we will put a second crib in the room.  Even though the miscarriage created a wall that I hold around me to protect myself, the pregnancy and the desire to have another baby pushes through that wall and lets my imagination drift off and make plans.