An Olive in the Oven

I have a really good reason for not having written in two weeks, I swear. There's been something on my mind. It's a little, tiny something, but it's taken up a disproportionate amount of energy. In fact, it's only the size of a big grape, or a cocktail olive, and it hasn't been on my mind, so much as in my belly. If you're following along, and not jumping to conclusions about some kind of dreaded, super-rare grapesickness or olivepox, you may have guessed it: I'm pregnant. Here's Steggy with the proof:



Holy crap, right? Lucky and I have been on this mission since March, and after three months of no dice, we put the bun in the oven in early June. At least, that's when we got the positive test result (see above). The ovening must actually have happened about two weeks earlier, but since pregnancy week-counting is whack, it was already considered week 4 at the time of testing. Now, I am officially 8.5 weeks along, or just over 2 months. I'm still plop in the middle of the stealth trimester, so if you are one of the few people from my real life who knows about this blog, please keep this firmly on the DL. (That means "down low," for those of you even whiter than me. Is that possible? I am scared for you.)

So, here we are. If Eggy Jr. (tm Lucky) holds on, and all goes according to plan, we will have a mini-us in mid-March. I'm in an odd place, in that I don't want to lose touch with the fact that this could still go wrong, but I do want to embrace the process and give in to some healthy, squirmy hope. I had a very good talk with a friend of mine who happens to be a midwife a few weeks ago, and I was reminded that not only is she super hot, she's also pretty wise. She pointed out that when things go bad in the first trimester, it is almost always because the little life had something quite wrong off the get-go, and just wasn't going to thrive. The goal is to find some peace in being proud of what we've made so far (and we are) and being aware that it's now up to the little one to take root. So basically, it's day to day. And it's pretty much all I'm thinking about.

This is why I haven't written. I originally didn't want to commit it to virtual paper until it got a bit more solid, but since we met with the midwife last week, and have an ultrasound scheduled for this Thursday, and I realized that I just wasn't going to write very much unless I could write about this, I thought it was time to sack up. Get ready to hear about my boobs. Which are HUGE.