It’s make-you-crazy scary to do the thing that failed…twice…last year and hold on to hope that this one will be different. Every month about 3 days before my monthly check up I start to enter the certifiable zone, analyzing every movement or lack thereof – every symptom – every possible indication of the baby’s well being. Then I Google all of it and see what all the online people say about it. And then I try to coach myself on how I will react if my doctor doesn’t find a heartbeat. And I pray a lot. And usually wind up on The Hunk’s shoulder in a puddle of tears the night before the appointment. And I tell him that I know I’m crazy, that this is totally illogical, that everything is, more than likely, just fine. He nods and says I’m not crazy, just pregnant.

But, geez, it’s wearing me slap out.

I have accepted, though, that next 20 weeks will be like walking the tight wire of trust. It’s skinny and wobbly and I need a hand to hold through it all because let’s be honest, my balance has never been that great. I can’t think too much or I’ll get distracted from the all important wire beneath my feet or I might start feeling over confident and let go of THE all important hand I’m holding. And if I fall I will land smack in the middle of anxiety and the deepest fear I know and all around crazy town. So, I just keep hanging on. Walking the line. Occasionally slipping but loving that hand that keeps pulling me back onto the wire.

Somehow it will all be okay. And I’m embracing that this is good, a baby growing inside of me and all. It’s not something to fear but something to enjoy. She’s designed and created for a purpose, and I’m deeply in love with her already. But not nearly as much as her Creator is. That seems like a really big deal, ya’ know?

So, now I’m going to do the cliche’ blogging world thing to do and fill out one of those little charts because this is real. She is real. And today she doing just fine.