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Fifteen Weeks

July 13, 2009

Yesterday I reached the fifteen week mark. I am securely and squarely in the second trimester. I found that I still worry over every ache and pang and angst over the fact that I have to go 7 weeks without an OB visit. But something else struck me as well.

I made it this far.

I honestly never believed I would make it to the second trimester. After the ectopic pregnancy experience my naivete was lost and I assumed that something would go wrong again. That it was only a matter of time. I sought out horror stories of all sorts of miscarriages to steal myself against the inevitable. I didn’t stress so much about it as I knew it wasn’t an if, it was a when.

I never really considered that I’m going to be a mother. That I am a mother. It hit me when I was looking in the mirror yesterday morning. The realness is shocking. I’m not scared by the feeling, but I’m scared to enjoy the feeling.

Even so, within twenty-four hours I’ve felt myself going through a shift. Priority lists have become rearranged. And the prominent question on my mind has been “What the hell am I doing?”

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