Update.

I've gotten a lot of requests for an update in the last few weeks, and a message asking if this blog was kaput or if we've moved on.

the thing is, I've been meaning to come on and give updates and pictures and share our good news, but it's trickier than i thought it would be. for starters, i'm not exactly sure what to say. i feel incredibly lucky every single day to be pregnant, but most of the people i bonded with through blogger are still TTC and so i am hesitant to share all for fear of being insensitive.

the fact is, at 22 weeks i still worry constantly that i won't have a baby to take home at the end of this. i know that isn't what anybody wants to hear and i understand that because i always thought that once i made it out of that scary first trimester or felt the baby move, or announced our pregnancy to the world that i would feel more strongly about everything. but the fact is, i still worry. i still have bad dreams. last weekend my husband and i were "baby-browsing" at this little boutique and ran into some acquaintances from work. they were really nice and chatty and everything was going fine until she said, "by the way! Jen told us you're expecting! congratulations!" and then i kind of got weird. i mumbled some responses and hurried my husband out of the store. when we got in the car i was beet red and shaking like a leaf. it felt weird to have word get around about my pregnancy. it's not a tightly contained secret anymore. everyone is telling everyone and that makes me feel incredibly vulnerable.

i'm also surprisingly still bitter about our losses and infertility. i thought pregnancy would cure that, but no. it still hurts to get the surprise "we're pregnant" bomb at a dinner party or out with friends. it still stings. a lot. way more than i ever would have expected. i should be happy to get some friends and a new support network for this new stage of my life, but i still don't feel like i fit in with all the "fertiles" and i still feel like an outsider, an observer of their world. a few days ago my cousin, who is more or less homeless and unemployed told me she was expecting and although i was very sweet and congratulatory to her, i ranted and raved for almost an hour to my sister later about said cousins ongoing stream of poor life choices. her response? "i can't believe you're still so bitter." it's true, i am.

this pregnancy, although very wanted and the result of years of trying, has been difficult too. i had severe all day sickness for several weeks and i actually still battle nausea and vomiting every couple of days even though i'm more than halfway done with pregnancy. at 22 weeks i have not officially gained any weight yet and i'm still about 10 pounds below what i was pre-pregnancy. and it feels unfair. if there was anybody on the planet who deserved a stress free and easy pregnancy, it's a person who's death with recurrent loss and infertility. i feel like i deserve a free pass, like "here you go, ttc was hard enough, don't worry pregnancy will be a breeze."

and the fact that i'm so miserable and sick and exhausted all the time makes me feel incredibly guilty, like i should be more grateful. like i should enjoy this more. like i'm squandering it.

there are good things to report too:

my son (yes! it's a boy!) is the most wanted, most beloved, and most beautiful person i can imagine existing. every time i feel him move inside of me it feels miraculous. i almost can't believe it's really happening. I have a son.

my husband and i feel so tremendously lucky, it's like we're on a second honeymoon. we've been to hell and back these last two years. infertility made us re-find each other and re-discover ourselves and now pregnancy has done the same. early on in our pregnancy we were out on one of those spring days that just feels amazing after a long chicago winter and laughing (we do a lot of laughing now) and my husband said to me "you're funny! were you always this funny?" and i said, "yeah, it's weird to have my personality back after being cripplingly depressed for over a year..." because it's like coming back from the dead.

earlier this year i posted about looking forward, never back, and moving on with my husband. but that isn't exactly how it's been. yes, we've moved forward, but we move forward as different people. our scars are a part of us now and denying their existence would be a disservice to the babies we've lost and the younger versions of ourselves that we've left behind. we move forward as a family, we look back constantly and wonder all the time why it happened this way, but every single day we are grateful for each other and the baby boy we have yet to meet but already know so well.