I’m grateful to several people in my life for always thinking positive when I seem to have lost the ability.
My husband. He’s a doctor, and he knows the risks and statistics and odds that something could go wrong with this, our first pregnancy. Yet he has never once doubted the, um, efficacy or viability of this pregnancy. He has, on more than one occasion (ahem… a daily basis) encouraged me to think positive. And just last night, my husband, who is a Christian, but is shy about praying aloud, prayed out loud for our baby’s safety.
My neighbor. She is not a doctor. She is a mother to three children, and has had only one miscarriage because she fell down the stairs before she even knew she was pregnant. She is a constant rock for me, always telling me that my baby(ies…she’s convinced there’s more than one) are safe in there. She also tells me I should be grounded from reading the internet and what could go wrong. This woman, who is a little less than three years younger than me, has been a daily encouragement and support for me.
Today, she brought me my first set of maternity clothes as a belated birthday present. We haven’t even seen this baby on a screen yet, but she is so happy for me, and so confident in mine and C’s ability to make and keep babies, that she went out and bought me a ridiculously cute outfit. And handmade blocks that spell “baby” to take belly pictures with. It made my day.
They could both be horribly wrong. Things could always go horribly wrong. I am distinctly aware of that. But I’m also grateful to be surrounded by so much positivity, because if this does turn out to be the real thing… I don’t want to look back on this time and feel sad that I didn’t enjoy it more rather than living in fear. I don’t want to live in fear.
And if they are horribly wrong? I will be heartbroken and sad. I will mourn. I will save my super cute maternity outfit and baby blocks for another time. And we will try again.
Wednesday morning, 7:30am. We will find out a lot. Cross your fingers, say some prayers, rub your rabbit’s foot that the baby (or babies) are safe and sound and stuck there for good. Until I know otherwise, I think I’m going to start erring on the side of optimism…. Risky, I know, but I don’t want any regrets later.