Spring Flowers in August (4w4d)

Jay sent me flowers today. Red tulips and purplish-blue irises. They were a bit droopy from the heat when they arrived, but after a good watering they have filled out and look beautiful. I would rather Jay be here for all of this pregnancy stuff, but I look at the flowers he sent and I smile. Spring flowers to remind of my spring due date. It seems forever away, but I know the time will slip by and I will wonder where these months went.

Jay will be home from deployment at the beginning of my second trimester, but gone again here and there for the rest of my pregnancy and deployed again shortly after I deliver. Those thoughts scare me. I was alone when I took my pregnancy test and it’s a long and challenging road ahead where I’ll be alone for many difficult and scary things less exciting than finding out I’m pregnant, but this is our life in the Navy.

I’m tough. I’m strong. I can do this. But I’m girl, and I like flowers, too.

What Others Are Saying (4w3d)

I’ve started telling people close to me, as well as some blogging friends. I haven’t yet said anything on my blog or made this blog public, but here is what others have written. I want to keep a record of it because reading their words makes me smile. I really am pregnant.

On Sommer’s blog:

in other exciting news, a friend got some very good news and i am vicariously doing the happy dance for her. so yay her. and yay me for good news to celebrate that isn't even mine.


On Jae’s blog:

My best pal has revealed that she is with child, knocked-up, pregnant! I’m not sure I’ve ever been so elated over such news, not even from my brother. I actually jumped up and down when I was told. I’ve caught myself smiling all day. Without permission, I called a friend just because I had to tell someone.

She is going to be a great mother. Her husband, a wonderful father. That kid will have all the love, compassion, understanding and education that she and I so wanted in our own lives.

Advice (4w2d)

I am barely four weeks pregnant (two weeks since conception) and already the advice is coming. The “baby” is little more than a cluster of cells hopefully embedded in my uterus and I haven’t even experienced any symptoms (except wanting to sleep all the time) and people are already offering advice.

From the baristas at Starbucks: A little caffeine won’t hurt me.

From my wonderful veterinarian, Dr. Smithey: the toxoplasmosis lecture.

From my writer friend Sommer: sleep as much as possible, babies suck your brain dry.

From my writer friend Alana: ignore all the advice I’m going to get.

From pretty much everyone: get a bigger car!

I know at some point, the well-meaning advice will start to annoy me. I will resent anyone telling me what to put in (or do to) my body, how to take care of myself, my pregnancy, my child, my life. I’m not a good advice-taker anyway. I rarely ask for it—maybe because I rarely follow it. I know my own path most of the time.

But right now I’m enjoying the advice. I’m listening and nodding and smiling in appreciation. Right now, I’m just so amazed I’m actually pregnant that the advice feels like a gift.

Waiting for Confirmation (4w0d)

I have a doctor’s appointment Thursday afternoon to confirm I’m pregnant. Because, you know, I’m just a dumb woman who took a couple of tests and I can’t be trusted to know I’m actually pregnant until the lab at the doctor’s office does the same test and says it’s true. Then I can begin dealing with the medical healthcare system. Fun!

I have moments, hours even, when I forget I’m pregnant. I guess that’s not unusual, given that I don’t have any symptoms yet. My period isn’t even technically late yet. But I’m definitely pregnant. The question is whether I will stay this way. I haven’t had the best luck in the past, but somehow things seem to be aligned this time around. Strange coincidences abound. I think that’s why I tested so early.

When we lived in Charleston, I was lucky enough to have a wonderful civilian doctor within the military health care system. Dr. Belil is Algerian with a beautiful, lilting French accent. “Mrs. Wright,” she would say, “you have allergies and should not have pets!” I didn’t listen to her, but I still liked her. She is the best doctor I’ve ever had—a true believer in the mind/body connection and a wonderful, warm and funny woman.

We left Charleston in January 2000 and I sent Dr. Belil a couple of Christmas cards over the years. That was the extent of our contact in over eight years until she called me on July 11. I remember the date because my wallet was stolen on July 10 and when I heard her message: “Kristina, you’ll never believe this!” I at first thought it was someone calling to say my wallet had been turned in. Then I recognized the voice as her message went on to say she’d found my address and looked up my phone number. She wanted to catch up.

We missed each other's phone calls a couple of times over the next few days and then she left for Europe, but the coincidence struck me, even then. Dr. Belil was the one who told me I was pregnant when I lived in Charleston. She was the one who helped me deal with the aftermath when I had a miscarriage that left me devastated. She was there, this calm and peaceful woman, to comfort me. The fact that she called me a week or so before I conceived just seems like a sign. If you believe in such things. Which I do.

I told someone Dr. Belil is my guardian angel. Perhaps she is. There are others, too, I think. I’m hopeful my guardians will get me and baby through this pregnancy safe and healthy. I’m trying to be at peace with all of this, not stress and worry, as is my nature. What will be will be, and all that. It’s hard. If this works out, my life will be forever changed. Scary. Exciting. Scary. Am I ready for it? Are we ready for it? I hope so. I think so. I guess we’ll find out.

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Still (3w5d)

I took another First Response test. No doubt this time—two pink lines. I’m pregnant.

Still.